A House Of Cards
by Deception's Call
Summary: Cray becoming Katniss Everdeen's father figure is not what she expected. Especially when he turns her home into a whore house with her mother's consent. But when things take a turn for the worse, an unlikely savior enters her life at the darkest of times. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So I got a little inspiration from a movie I watched starring Jennifer Lawrence! So I hope you like the first chapter. This'll be my third multi-chapter story, buuutt I'm fast at updating :D**

**NOTE: In this fic, there are no Hunger Games. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or the characters.**

* * *

I race the sun home in the morning, and wake up to the moon at night. There's just today…then there's tonight. Anything can happen, so anything does.

You get through it.

It all started when my dad died. My mother dove into depression rapidly soon after that, leaving behind two young daughters to fend for themselves in the cold winter night. The oldest being me.

We starved, and, had I been older, I would've found myself on Cray's doorstep, selling myself out.

But I'm glad that I didn't, because it allowed me to keep some of my dignity.

There were the pity looks that Prim and I received during the course of that year, and I hate pity. It makes me feel weak.

My mother still looked young, and she was around her early thirties when dad died. About two months after we almost starved to death, Cray appeared on our doorstep, calling for my mother.

So that's when it started.

He progressively came over, stayed longer as the seasons came by. And soon, he was practically living in our house.

Cray is notorious for his lust of young looking women. So, in my family's fragile state, he welcomed himself into our home. And my mother took him in with open arms.

They think I don't hear them at night.

I don't know if my mother is aware that even if Cray spends the night and the morning with us, that he's still running his 'business' in the comfort of his home. I've tried to tell her numerous times that he's just playing with her, but she denies it, simply brushing me off saying that he's fulfilling his Peacekeeper duties. But if he was, I should be arrested by now.

I wake up before the sun rises every morning, to go to the woods and hunt as much as I can. I come back when the sunlight just breaks the horizon.

We're barely scraping by, Cray keeps hogging all of my game to bribe other girls to go home with him. We get minimal food, but it's something, and I've learned that something is better than nothing. Always.

But despite everything, Cray has never been one to hurt me in any way. Or Prim. He adores Prim. I think he's the only one that he remotely likes in this household, apart from my mother. I think that he views me more as a cat, bringing scraps to eat.

But it's still more than he'll ever get if he was on his own.

* * *

I pry my eyes open to meet with the cold wind of Autumn. Prim is breathing heavily beside me and I disentangle myself from her grasp.

I tuck the blanket into her sleeping body and plant a kiss on her forehead before taking my father's hunting jacket and sprinting out the door.

I walk the dusty path of the Seam that leads to the meadow, and coal dust begins to form on the worn leather of my shoes.

I take a moment to admire the crimson leaves that are placing a blanket over the District before shimmying under the fence.

My hunter instincts begin to take place as my footsteps begin to get increasingly silent and my breathing slows. I grab my bow and arrow from the hollow log that it usually rests in before meeting Gale in the clearing that overlooks a valley.

I see his broad form when I emerge from the woods.

Gale told me once that he used to hunt in the early hours of the morning, after the sun was above the horizon. But when I started to join him and Cray's demands were looming over my shoulder.

Despite my yearning for an extra hour and a half of sleep, I'm aware that if I don't comply with his orders, he can easily turn me into dedicated Peacekeeper officials. And that would mean that Gale might be in trouble because the fence could be put on guard, and Prim would get sent to a children's home.

And anyway, it's not that bad. I've learned that hunting in the morning means sleeping animals. Also, it means that we get done earlier, which is good for trading, because that means that we're the first ones at the Hob, so we get a better deal.

My footsteps may be silent but Gale knows me too well.

"Hey Catnip."

I laugh quietly and sit down beside him, "I still don't get it, how do you know that it's me? If you can't hear my steps?"

He gives off a small smirk, "You always come exactly ten minutes after I do."

"But what if one day I am late and you discover that you're talking to yourself?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Then call me crazy!"

I laugh at him and stand up, dusting myself off. "Come on then, what are you waiting for?"

* * *

By the end of our hunting session, we were able to catch and kill three pheasants, four squirrels and two rabbits. It was one of our luckier days. Usually, we just end up with a couple squirrels and rabbits, but a flock of pheasants have been lingering in the District lately, and my hands have been itching to get a hold of them.

Greasy Sae is already placed at her section in the Hob once we arrive. Ripper is there too, and surprisingly, Haymitch Abernathy is awake at 5:30am in the morning. But obviously, it's because he's run out of his supply of alcohol.

He's the town drunk, and he was an old friend of my dad. His wife was heading over to the mines on the day of the explosion to meet my father, but the ground crumbled beneath her feet and she fell in. They say she was crushed by the debris.

Ever since he lost his wife and his friend, he has succumbed to the pleasures of alcohol.

He's not that bad though, I've stumbled upon him unconscious a couple of times, and I took him to Prim so she could help him straighten up and get better, since my mother isn't able to achieve her duties as the town healer anymore. She spends most of her days in her room when Cray isn't at home.

"Good haul today?" She gives me an almost toothless grin.

"Definitely, couldn't have gotten this much without Katniss here though," Gale nudges my side, "I couldn't get the pheasants, but she took them down like a pro."

I snicker, "Glad that you're finally accepting that I'm better than you at archery."

He shrugs, "It wasn't my best day."

"Sure."

Sae laughs, "Well, I can give you ten coins for two squirrels and five for one rabbit. And ten coins for one pheasant, that thing is a beaut."

I nod my head. This means that Gale and I get one pheasant and squirrel each.

"You can keep the one rabbit Gale."

I cut him off before he begins to protest, "You need it more than me. You have more mouths to feed.

He hesitates, "But what about Cray?"

"He doesn't like squirrels that much, I usually give him the rabbits. But he'll take the pheasant for sure and leave my family with the squirrel."

"But Catnip, that's _one_ tiny squirrel. C'mon, take mine. I have the pheasant and the rabbit, it's enough for at least two to three days. And I don't have to share with a selfish official."

I roll my eyes at him and take the squirrel from his grasp. I need to hunt tomorrow morning, I know that Gale won't be. But I'll do it alone if I have too. Because he's right, one tiny squirrel won't last us. And two will last us a day and a half. And I need to trade for some bread so it's convenient.

After I bid Greasy Sae a farewell I am barely out of earshot when I hear her say, "Ah, young love."

* * *

When I reach home, it's 6am and Prim is already bouncing in the living room anticipating my arrival.

"What are you waiting for little duck? Help me with breakfast," I give her a smile and we start preparing.

While mixing the squirrel stew, Cray stumbles in the room looking dishevelled and thanks me for the pheasant. Then he walks out the door.

Prim and I eat on the creaking kitchen table when mother walks in, looking as dishevelled as Cray.

"Have an exciting night mother?"

She smirks at me and stumbles to the couch, "Better than any night you're going to get."

I run my tongue over my lips, "At least I have respect for my house companions. I don't go meandering off with a guy forever being his sex buddy."

She staggers towards me and strikes me across the face, "How dare you? He has been good to us! He has helped us in many ways!"

Mother never used to hit me. It's truly a rare occasion. But it usually occurs when I make rude comments about her lover. Cray may not have done anything to Prim and I, but he has certainly changed my once sweet mother.

"You mean he has helped _you._ He hasn't helped Prim and I at all!"

"He's a father figure!"

"Oh really? And he's such a good one as well!" The sarcasm is obvious in my voice, "What good father figure would just have sex with a child's mother and leave the next morning taking the food that her daughter earned?"

"You don't have to give him the food!"

"Yes I do! Or else he'll turn me in! They'll take Prim! And then what will you be left with? You won't have me or Prim. And he'll leave you once he doesn't get game in return. You're not as young as you used to be, and he won't stay with you forever!"

She snarls, "He loves me!"

I take Prim by the arm because I can tell that she's scared, "He doesn't love you! You're nothing more than another one of his whores to him."

I leave before she can make another comment and I make my way down the road with Prim. Even in the distance, I can hear my mother's cries.

When we reach the school, I send Prim off to her section, but not before apologizing and wishing her a good day.

I take my seat in my first class, English, and put my head in my heads. I think back to the earlier argument that I had with my mother and think.

_What has my family become?_

* * *

**I hope you liked it! I promise you, it's a Peeta x Katniss story. And sorry he's not in this chapter! He will be in the next one though! It's going to be a gradual ascent to the climax, it won't just happen in the next five chapters or something. **

**Anyway, I hope this was a good start. And I'm going to update every two days because I still need to update my other story, Kingdom Of Glass.**

**Thank you so much for reading, it's appreciated greatly. And like always, reviews are very much appreciated :)**

**PS: If I get good responses I'll continue this :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for your feedback on the first chapter! Here's the second :D**

* * *

I don' t pay much attention during my sessions in class, and my teachers are well aware of it. I just don't see the point in learning because we've learnt this all before.

The leaves are just turning red, I've been watching them slowly dance to the ground in a graceful descent.

It's a beautiful sight. It's one of the only times that I find District 12 remotely pretty.

Despite the beauty of the season, there's a horror looming in the corner.

Next month is Prim's twelfth birthday, it's the legal age for apprenticeship, and surely Prim would want to help me out with our expenses.

I don't need any help.

I tap my fingers on my worn wooden desk as my History of Panem teacher drabbles on about the Dark Days.

She knows that I'm not listening to her, I know that she doesn't care.

Because who would care for a Seam girl?

* * *

My braided hair has been crowned with fiery coloured leaves as I silently sneak around the woods. I need something for tonight, because one squirrel isn't enough, and we need to gain some weight for the upcoming winter, because the game hides away in the night.

There's a rustle in the trees on my right, and on instinct, I shoot my arrow.

And down comes flying a dead bird.

My stomach flips in excitement. The bird is full of fat and heavy, and surely it isn't the only one around. Birds fly in flocks around these parts.

I grab my kill and smile to myself as I put it in my game bag.

I whisper to myself as I walk, "Maybe the odds will be in my favour this winter."

* * *

The Hob is humid because of the heat radiating off people's bodies. It's the busiest time of the year for this black market. Everyone is trading for wool or for anything that will keep them secure for this winter, because the count of frozen and lifeless bodies doubles during that season.

Sometimes even, I stumble upon dead Seam children that are huddled together in alleyways.

And I can't help but think that it could've been me.

But there are the others, who sell themselves out of desperation. Of course, they sell themselves to none other than good ol' Cray.

I always think when I see them limping in the Town that if they had respect for themselves. Or dignity.

But then I remember that in District 12, all of that belongs to the Capitol. And that we are just merely their lifeless servants.

"What are you doing back here, girl?" Sae gives me a confused look, she crooks her head to the side.

I chuckle and sit down on the creaky stool that's opposite her small stall, "My morning's haul wasn't enough."

She gives me a small frown, "Everyone knows are your mother and Cray."

I start tapping my foot on the floor and rubbing the back of my neck, "Yeah, I know."

"Remember girl, keep your head high and never sell yourself out. It's nice to have a young girl with her dignity still living in this god-forsaken District."

I smile softly at her, "Thanks Sae. It's just…" I put my head down on my hands, "I just don't know what to do. Everything I do is monitored by him, and when he's not there, my mom is the eyes at the back of his head. He's got her wrapped around his finger, and all he wants is good sex and fresh meat to bribe his other girls with. If I don't follow his orders, or if I betray him, I'm done for."

She rubs my back softly, her eyes scream pity.

I hate pity.

"I know."

I clear my throat and look up at her again, "I got six birds, I want to trade three. I also got two pouches full of blackberries, you can have one."

She gives her signature near-toothless grin.

"Hand them over then."

I gladly do. And when she's counting the coins I hear a smooth and confident voice emanating from the east side of the infamous black market.

"What are you doing here?" A man who's face is half scarred says.

The blonde boy looks nervous but he replies with a confident voice that doesn't falter, "I'm just here, I need to trade for flour."

I narrow my eyes at him, squinting to make sure that my eyes are not deceiving me.

Peeta Mellark. In the Hob.

_What is he doing here?_

I detach my eyes from him and turn to Greasy Sae, "What is he doing here?"

She chuckles, "Oh, he comes here once in a while. To trade for supplies for the bakery."

I raise my eyebrow at her, "Aren't they sponsored by the Capitol?"

"You know they don't care about us Katniss. And besides, he trades for fresh fruit, the kinds that you bring in from the woods. Says they make the best desserts. And looks like he's lucky, you just brought in a good set of berries."

My stomach turns in a knot, _maybe the odds aren't in my favour today._

I tap my fingers vigorously on the table and silently urge Sae to hurry up and give me the coins.

And she does just in time as I feel Peeta sit down beside me.

"Hello Sae," he smiles.

"Afternoon, Peeta. What can I do for you today?"

I'm counting my coins when he responds, "Just here to trade for some berries. Dad wants them for a special order."

Greasy Sae smiles at me, "Perfect timing Peet, Katniss here just brought in a whole new batch of fresh berries. I hope blackberries will suffice?"

I can feel his blue eyes rest on me, "Oh really? Then I guess it's my lucky day. And yes, blackberries would be wonderful."

I clear my throat and stand up, "Got to head home Sae, I need to make dinner."

She nods her head slightly, "Bye Katniss, say hi to Prim for me."

"I will."

And I leave without taking one look at Peeta Mellark.

* * *

The sun bows down behind me as I walk the dusty path heading to my household. When I'm within view of it, I can hear shouts and screams of my mother and her lover.

My stomach drops knowing that this will be the scandal tomorrow morning around town, they will fabricating rumours, the most common one is that my mother is apparently pregnant with Cray's baby.

Obviously however, this isn't true.

But that doesn't mean that it won't happen.

I wonder if Prim's still in that house, or whether she's with the Hawthornes. Whenever things get really bad in there, I make her climb through the window and send her off into the night, I tell her not to come back until I get her.

There's those nights where they just fight, but there's also those nights where abuse is a main factor of the argument.

Usually, I find blood streaked across the walls in the morning.

I don't know where they come from, whether from my mother or Cray. Or both. All I know is that sometimes I find the shattered remains of a photo frame or a vase laying shortly away from the red substance.

Is it right to even call her my mother? She's more of a person living in my house – a stranger.

I shuffle towards my front door, which has been left slightly ajar.

Inside, I can see my mother holding a fragmented piece of wood.

So, it's one of _those _nights.

I don't dare step in, or else I'll get in the middle of the chaos, and the last thing that I want to happen is ending up with a bruise.

So I end up climbing over my fence that separates the front of my house from the back.

I can hear the gentle hum of the mine machinery in the distance – it lulls me to sleep every night.

One would think that it would be positively irritating, but to me, it's soothing. It really lets me know my place and gives me a sense of home.

I swing my game bag over through the small window and push it through, landing with a small thud on the ground.

Then, I lift myself up and swing my knees to rest on the base of the window.

"Katniss!"

The scared voice shocks me and I lose balance, falling on the floor directly beside my game bag.

"Oh Katniss! I'm sorry!"

I groan and rub my head, "Prim? What are you still doing here? I told you to go whenever something happens!"

She whimpers, "Sorry Katniss, it's just…I was just scared. There were people fighting in the streets earlier and I didn't want to get caught in it."

I open my arms and bring her close to me, I whisper in her hair, "Shhh, it's okay Prim. I'm here. It's going to be okay."

She cries into my chest, "I just want Dad back."

"I do too, Prim. I do too."

I shield her from the moans that echo through the house later that night.

* * *

**So yeah, second chapter. Things are slow for now but it'll pick up in the next chapter, but I don't know when that will be posted up. Maybe in two days, maybe next week. But it'll be posted by this next next week.**

**Short chapter though, not much to say. More of a filler. I can't promise anything, but the next one will be much longer. **

**Hope you guys liked it! And like always, reviews are appreciated (: **


	3. Chapter 3

I hear my sister whimpering in her sleep. It's normal. She has nightmares of the night that my father died, the night that this lifestyle was unleashed on us.

She doesn't deserve it. Maybe I do. But not her. Not sweet Prim.

I don't tell her that I don't sleep at night, it'll just worry her. And I don't need people worrying about me. There are better things to do.

I once believed that there was a time where things would be good again. It was when I met Gale. I thought maybe…just maybe, he could be that silver lining in my life. He became my best friend and it sort of just stuck.

It took me a while before I realized that the man on the white horse ain't coming.

I guess that it was sort of a wake-up call for me – that I needed to stop waiting and move on with my life, and be the provider for my family.

Still, sometimes I wish that there's going to be a knight in shining armour that will sweep me off my feet. Not for my personal pleasure, but for Prim, because it's then that I will know surely that I'll be able to secure what she deserves in her life. It's too late for me; I'm already messed up with what I've seen.

I can't tell you how many times I've walked in on my mother and Cray.

And I can't tell you how painful the beatings were from my mother.

Cray never laid a finger on me, he would just stand in the corner of the room and watch. And sometimes, if it got too bad, he would pull my mother off my and exit the room wordlessly with her.

I suppose it was because he was afraid that I might rebel on him and refuse to give him fresh meat.

But I wouldn't dare, not when Prim's safety is at stake.

Cray has done a couple of decent things for Prim and I, like getting us cloth for new clothes in the winter. But he prefers Prim over me, that much is obvious. He would always get her ribbons.

I wouldn't say that Prim loves Cray, she remotely thinks he's okay.

But she needs a father figure, and Gale isn't here all the time. Cray's the closest thing that she can get.

I cradle Prim and softly sing 'Deep In The Meadow' because it's the only thing that will get her to calm down in her sleep.

She soon ceases to shake and whimper and falls into a gentle slumber.

In her sleep, she looks about eight. So young, but gone through so much. A little innocent life gone wrong.

Life's a sad tale. But that's because it's not a fairytale.

There are no such thing as happy endings.

* * *

I don't need to hunt today, the food that I got yesterday along with Greasy Sae's money is just enough to last us today and perhaps half of tomorrow.

Slowly, I ease myself out of Prim's grip and get my stuff ready for school. A small sheet of paper comes loose from my old notebook and I silently curse myself.

I forgot to do my Math homework.

I use little slips of paper that I find around and use it as a sort of homework diary. I try to use as little space as I can so I can use it again. I don't like using paper from my notebook because I want to make the best of it and get as much as I can get written in it.

Prim has the new notebooks. I bought her two for her eleventh birthday. I settle with the ones that I can trade with at the Hob, most of them don't have covers or are slowly falling to pieces.

Prim kept insisting that I take one of her notebooks until I threatened her with buying another one.

She had said that it was a waste of money.

I told her that she was worth it.

That got her in tears and she never mentioned it again. I suppose it was because she wanted to avoid another emotional breakdown.

She's gotten stronger over the past couple of months – ever since Cray came. I don't know why but I think it was because she didn't want to be gossiped about amongst the Peacekeepers or something. At least that's what she claims.

Or maybe it's because she was afraid of him and didn't want him to use her weakness as an advantage.

That's what I think.

I take my small backpack and sling it across my shoulder. I tip-toe across the room and leave the room, leaving a sleeping Prim behind.

It's early, and I still have an hour and a half until school starts.

I take a seat at the worn out couch in the living room and I can faintly hear the sound of Cray snoring in the other bedroom. I roll my eyes.

I place my math sheet in front of me and take out my pencil.

I was never good at math…numbers just confused me, it always made my head spin.

When I was halfway through the sheet Cray stumbled out of the room with hickeys spread across his neck and nodded lightly at me.

Then he was gone.

He must have had some leftover pheasant.

Following shortly after him was my mother.

She staggered into the room limping, bumping into every surface that comes in her way.

What did they do last night?

Her clothes are loose on her body, hanging off one of her shoulders. The exposed skin reaches her elbow.

And that's all that she's wearing.

I shake my head at her and turn my attention back to my math paper.

As I'm doing the next equation I glance up at the clock. _An hour and a half to go._

Suddenly, her rasped voice fills the air, "Where's the alcohol?"

Oh, right. After getting with Cray, she treated her depression with alcohol whenever he left her for another girl. She's like the female version of Haymitch Abernathy. But still, she's nowhere near close to even matching him.

I gulp and my voice is barely above a whisper, "I…uh…I poured it down the sink."

I had sneaked out last night to check our small safe of cash. Inside I found barely any money – the money that we saved up for emergencies.

I was so mad because I knew that my mother had been the one spending it, because sometimes Cray's supply isn't enough to satisfy her needs.

So I poured it all down the sink to teach her a lesson.

And it's obviously biting me back right now.

She swipes the dirty pans off the counter in rage and I cringe.

_Oh Prim please don't wake up. _

"Why the hell did you do that?"

I stutter and try to focus my attention on my math paper, "I…um…I was just –"

She strides in front of my and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her.

"Do you have any idea how much money was wasted on those?"

I growl at her and push her off, my anger finally surfacing, "Oh, I do! I do know how much money was wasted because _I _am the one that earned it! And you're wasting _my _hard earned money! That stash was supposed to be used for emergencies, _**not **_for your personal pleasure!"

I started to save some of my spare cash after my encounter with Peeta all those years ago. I hated owing people, so I figured that the best way to avoid that was to save some spare money for emergency cases – to avoid any more encounters with the fine line between life and death.

She growls at me, like a lion ready for its prey, "How dare you talk to me like that! How dare you talk _about _me like that!"

I stand up, aggravated, "You might be my mother, but you sure don't act like it. And you once told me to tell the truth, no matter how much it hurts. And here it is: You've turned into a whore!"

She strides towards me with fierce steps and strikes me across the face.

Her face is red with fuming anger, "How dare you! You think it's so easy don't you? All you have to do it wander off into the woods! What about me? I have to stand him leaving! I have to endure the gossip!"

I can feel my face contort, "You think hunting is _easy_? No mom, it's not. And it's hard having to do it because I know that if I refuse or don't get anything, then Cray will report me to the authorities in the Capitol! If I don't comply I'm dead, mom. And then what's going to happen to Prim? The home? You know how bad it is there! Then what's going to happen to you? You need us, mom.

"And about that gossip? You don't have to endure it if you don't like it! You brought this upon _yourself._ And you can stop it if you don't like it! You don't have to be known as a whore!"

"Then it's too late! Because I've already agreed to become one of his whores!"

I can feel my face go pale, "One of?"

She nods slowly, "Yes. One of. I've agreed to be one of his whores. And I said that he can use this place as a brothel."

My face drains of colour, and I speak through my clenched teeth, "What? You're joking right."

It's more of a statement rather than a question.

My mother shakes her head, "No, I'm not."

"But why here?"

She shrugs, "He asked. I agreed. I think it's because he wants his own private place."

I know why. It's because he doesn't want to get caught during the surprise inspections that the Capitol does annually on the Peacekeepers. They do that to make sure that things are in order. Cray's been lucky these past few years, but his 'business' is growing rapidly. And also, if we ever do get caught, he can just put the blame on my mother – it is her house, after all.

"Also, at least now, if he rats you out, I have a source of income."

My blood boils, "So you're selling yourself just in case I get caught?"

She nods.

"You self-absorbed animal. Do you think that he won't rat you out too if I betray him? Because trust me, he will mom."

She narrows her eyes at me, "He would never."

I cock my head at her, raising my eyebrow, "Oh he will, mom. And I most definitely won't be there to cushion the fall."

With that, I clumsily gather my things and stuff them into my backpack, and with that done I storm out of the house – an hour early for school.

Prim's still inside, but that's okay. Gale usually walks with us in the mornings with his brothers, so I know that she'll get to school in time. I just hope Gale won't ask any questions.

What's going to happen to Prim and I once this place is a brothel? If I have too, I'll make a makeshift house in the woods for our sanctuary during the night. This is not the kind of life that I had envisioned for her.

I almost feel guilty because of our situation. But then I realize that it isn't my fault.

It's the whore's.

* * *

The school is deserted apart from a couple of Seam teenagers in the back. I know that some come here early to escape their hard life and have a little fun with their 'significant others.'

Some merchants are in school at this hour as well, mostly kids that just want to get away from morning duty.

I receive some looks from the other students because I'm never in school early. I'm usually late or right on the bell.

I make my way to my rusty old locker and pry it open. I stumble with my books and drop them when I hear a voice calling me from the end of the hallway.

"Hey Katniss!"

I force myself to turn around. It's Peeta. _What does he want?_

He catches up to me and smiles, "Thanks for the berries yesterday. They made a great cake."

I furrow my eyebrows at him, "I think that you should thank Greasy Sae, not me."

His smile seems to falter but he quickly recovers, "I did. But you're the one that got them."

I nod my head slowly while slowly closing my locker, math books in hand. "Uh-huh."

I scrunch my face up at him, "Why are you here so early anyway?"

He shrugs, "I had to make an early delivery. A wedding cake for the Robinsons'. The berries that you got were used for that cake. I just thought that it would be convenient if I went directly to school, no use in coming back home."

Peeta's eyes drift over to the books in my arms – he shares first period math with me.

"Hey did you do your math homework?"

Why is he still talking to me? "No, I didn't have time."

He raises his eyebrows and flashes a toothy grin, "Well you can take mine."

While he's fumbling with his bag, I snap, "I don't need it."

He stops midway from taking out his math sheet, "Katniss, I know things have been hard for you lately –"

"What do you know about my life? I don't need your charity."

His shoulders slump, "Katniss, people talk. And you're not my charity, I just think that there's nothing wrong with getting a little bit of help."

We hold each other's gaze for a couple of seconds before he shoves his math sheet into my hands and walks away.

* * *

Mrs. Forker is walking around the room collecting our assignments up, scolding the students who failed to complete it.

I had put Peeta's homework on his desk before he got here.

He smiles at Mrs. Forker while handing it over, and she smiles back. Peeta was always good at math, but I guess that it's a necessity because of baking.

When she approaches me she eyes me with doubt, thinking that I will nothing to offer. I sigh and hand over my sheet – complete with Peeta's answers, but I made sure to change some of the working.

She raises an eyebrow and scans the paper, "Well Ms. Everdeen, this is a great improvement. I'm glad that you're getting your act together, looks like you won't have to stay back next year."

I offer a small nod and sigh in relief. If I had to stay back then that means I won't be able to find a job and another home quicker, which means another year at the brothel.

While Mrs. Forker is collecting the rest of the papers, I can see from the corner of my eye that Peeta staring at me. I look at him and he offers me a small smile.

And what happens next isn't forced at all.

I smile back.

* * *

**Ah yes. The 3****rd**** chapter! I quite like this actually :D Sorry it's late D: But anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Thank you for reading and all of the reviews, they mean so much to me! 3**

**Like always, reviews are appreciated! (:**


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't a complete smile. Just a quirk of the lips. But it was still more than what I would've given anybody.

Now I'm in sixth period English, and Mrs. Fletcher is droning on about the basics of essay writing. I look out of the window to my left and stare at the mountains on the outskirts of the District. There have been so many instances that I was so close to running away and never looking back.

But I know that it's not even an option. It's not even something that I should be thinking about.

"Katniss!"

I snap out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

I face to see Mrs. Fletcher staring at me with a raised eyebrow. She's never liked me that much. But I suppose it's because I keep phasing out when I'm in her class.

"Thank you for paying attention. Now, as I was saying…" she faces away from me and turns to the rest of the class, her eyes scrutinizing each student, "I want you all to write me an essay. An essay about the hardest thing that you've had to overcome in your life so far. Tell me about yourself. Don't hold back, because I want each and every one of you to open up. Whatever is on that paper stays with me."

Mrs. Fletcher strides down each row of students, handing out the assignment sheets. And when I get mine I see that it has to be a minimum of three thousand words and that we have two months for it.

"I know that it says you have two months to work on this paper, but I don't want you guys to slack off. This is a very important part of your grade."

I look over to Sean Carter, he's the butcher's son. He doesn't talk to me in school but we make casual conversation whenever I pass the butcher's to go to the bakery. He happens to love English. And I know that he won't slack off for this assignment. Like as not, he'll probably be the first one finished.

I think about Peeta as well. He's in this class. I wonder what he'll write about – his mother? Mrs. Mellark's tendencies do not go unnoticed, and it's obvious that she doesn't give a damn about what anyone thinks.

I'm pretty sure that the teachers know where Peeta's bruises come from.

They haven't noticed mine yet.

It's one of my mother's tactics that hasn't leaked out yet. And something that I wish never will.

But I guess that it's something that Peeta and I have in common. Who would've guessed?

* * *

I look down at my assignment sheet as I walk to the cafeteria. I think of all the things that I could write about – the possibilities for this paper are endless.

I remember when I was thirteen Greasy Sae gave me a diary for a present. But I felt like it was too late, so I didn't write in it. Too much had already happened. So it wouldn't be the whole story. I feel that way again, and I'm sixteen. Nobody would believe it. Ain't got nobody to tell. A girl falls in the woods, but nobody sees it. Did it happen?

So I decide to ignore the assignment. I don't know what rumours are circulating around town but Mrs. Fletcher doesn't need to share it with the entire District. It's not like anyone would care anyway.

The thing is with people, is that when they hear something terrible they'll go, "Oh that's horrible," but then they'll go on eating their dinners.

They don't really care. They just want good gossip.

I don't pay attention to them.

I push open the cafeteria doors and walk over to my usual spot in the corner of the room. I forgot to pack myself a small lunch today in my haste to get out of the house. But I left Prim some money on the bedside table so I know that she at least is going to have something to eat.

But when I get there, I see Madge hunched over a book. It's unusual for her to get here before I do.

Madge is alright for the mayor's daughter. I wouldn't call her my friend but she's the closest one that I've got apart from Gale. I don't know why she doesn't hang around the townies, but I guess it's because she's ostracized from being more privileged than any of us. But she doesn't brag.

We don't talk – it's not something we're really comfortable with. We eat in silence.

But today is different.

As I sit down she looks up from her book and wrinkles her nose.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Why are you asking?"

She shrugs, "Nothing. It's just that I've heard things around town."

"Like what?" I narrow my eyes at her.

Madge shakes her head and focuses her attention on her book, "You don't need to know."

I rest my arms on the table, "Probably not."

Time passes slowly, slower than usual. I don't know if it's because I have nothing to eat or today's just a bad day.

Madge is eating strawberries behind her book and she looks at me weirdly when she catches me staring at them.

"Gale came by early this morning. He's been wondering where you've been."

I shake my head at her, and look down at my hands, "Oh, nothing. I've just been busy with Prim lately."

She nods her head, "Want a strawberry?"

I almost refuse until I hear my stomach growl. I reluctantly take one off her.

The rest of lunch goes by normally, no other words are expressed between the both of us.

* * *

Prim comes bouncing up to me at the end of the day.

I laugh as she almost trips over a rock.

"Slow down little duck. Why in such a hurry?"

She crosses her arms and scrunches up her face at me.

"What's wrong, Prim?" I ask.

Prim begins to tap her foot and she places her hands on her hips.

"Where were you this morning?"

She doesn't usually ask me where I go in the mornings. But I guess that given the circumstances lately she has the right to ask.

"I just went to school early, that's all. I had to finish some homework."

Prim cocks her head to the side, "Are you sure that it wasn't because of that argument with mom this morning?"

I can feel my mouth gape, and I'm about to retort but she cuts me off.

"I'm not stupid, Katniss. I know what's going on. And you don't have to hide these things from me. I'm perfectly capable of understanding our predicament."

I kneel down on the ground and take her hands into mine. I stare directly into her blue eyes. They're so filled with maturity that it unnerves me. My little duck is growing up too fast. But I suppose that it's what life does to you. This little girl before me is so strong, stronger than I'll ever be.

She doesn't let our circumstances get in the way of her studies, and she still continues to smile and laugh like she did before our father died. But she trusts too easily, and I'm afraid of what people might do to take advantage of that.

I squeeze her hands as a form of reassurance, "Promise me that you'll go over to the Hawthorne's after dinner every day? I don't want you there. And if something ever happens before dinner, get the hell out of that house."

She sighs, "Katniss-"

"Prim," my voice is firm, "promise me that."

She nods slowly. "Okay, I promise."

I smile at her and stand up, "C'mon then, let's go home."

* * *

The Hawthorne's don't live very far, it's about a ten minute walk from the Everdeen household.

The sun doesn't set until well after six o'clock, so I'm assured that Prim doesn't have to walk there during nightfall.

I enter and leave the house as I please, and when I get past the front door I am hit with a delicious aroma of fresh bread and pheasant stew.

The inside of the Hawthorne household is significantly better than my house, the furniture is relatively clean and patched up. Gale has a knack for fixing things up.

"Hi Hazelle," I greet.

She gives me a curt wave, "Hello Prim. Hello Katniss. Are you looking for Gale?"

I chuckle at her accusation, "No actually, I'm not. But now that I think about it, I would like to speak with him."

Hazelle gives me her signature warm grin, "Well he's in the bedroom."

I take Prim's hand in mine and lead her to the boys' bedroom. Like our house, the Hawthorne's only have two bedrooms as well. But Posy shares a room with Hazelle, so Gale, Rory and Vick are forced to share one.

I bring my hand up and knock lightly on the wooden door, and it creaks while being opened up by a tall Rory Hawthorne.

Prim's eyes light up as she pounces on him, "Rory!"

He laughs and gently pries her off, "Hey Prim."

The two soon scurry off into the far side of the room, seemingly talking about the new school activities that are coming soon for the middle school students.

My eyes find Gale's and he's situated beside the small and lanky old window which has partial bits of cracked glass adorning it. Probably from the storms that came with last year's winter. That winter was particularly harsh.

I take small steps and shuffle in beside him, twiddling my thumbs. I know that it's going to be hard to tell him, he'll surely be enraged and will insist that I should get out of there. But he doesn't know, he doesn't know the consequences that come with that choice.

"Hey, Gale," my voice comes out hoarse and raspy.

His eyes wander and look into mine. Grey and grey. Stormy to silver.

"Hey, Catnip."

I take in the people occupying the room – Vick is busy taking a nap while snoring lightly, Rory and Prim are too busy caught up in each other's words and Posy is nowhere in sight.

"Can I talk to you?"

Gale nods his head, "Yeah, always."

I purse my lips, "Can I talk to you _outside?_"

His lips part in realization that this is something major.

"Okay."

* * *

I shuffle outside the backdoor and into the scruffy backyard of the Hawthorne household, noting that Gale had built a new swing-set for Posy.

The sun-set behind us gives an overcast of fiery streaked colours along the sky of the District. Almost like a painting. A really beautiful painting.

But looks can deceive.

I notice that Gale has stopped trailing me and when I turn around I see him with his arms crossed and his faced has plastered on a stern look.

He swipes his right hand through the air, gesturing me to tell him what I'm planning too.

"I'm not moving until you tell me why you're here. You never come here after dinner."

I let out a huff of breath. Gale was always stubborn.

I run my hands through the loose hairs that have come out of my braid.

"Well, I need Prim to stay here after dinner for a while."

He gives me a questioning look. "You know that she's always welcome. Mom loves her. Why are you even asking?"

I shrug, "Just in case it becomes a bother."

He scrunches up his face, "Why are you asking me this Katniss?"

I throw my head back in exasperation and let out a sharp sigh.

"Katniss, what's wrong?"

I comb my fingers through my hair, progressively messing my braid up until I'm pretty sure that it's a complete mess.

"Katniss, you're making me worried," Gale says.

"The whore is selling herself out," I inform.

"You mean your mother..?"

I snarl inwardly, "No, I mean the whore."

He wrinkles his nose and gives me an unknowing look, "I don't get what you're trying to say…"

I grind my teeth together, "Cray has managed to coax my mother into prostitution!"

Gale's jaw drops, his eyes wide in the realization of my predicament. Then the surprised look in his eyes switches to fury. And Gale Hawthorne's fury knows no bounds.

"What?" he shouts.

Suddenly he's panicked, and looking back at the house through the small window leading into his shared bedroom.

"So…Prim?"

I nod my head, "Yes. That's why I need her here. Not only that but he's also managed to convince my mom to turn our house into his new business setting."

He glowers at me, "You can't stay there either, Katniss."

I shut my eyes tightly and sigh, "I have too. I have to make sure that things are kept under control. Who knows what's going to happen there."

"You have to get out of there, Katniss," he demands.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

I rub my face with my calloused hands, "Gale –"

"Dammit why won't you just listen to me?"

I growl at him, "Do you think that this is easy for me? It's never been easy! I have to give up my own hard work to feed that bastard or else he'll rat me out to the Capitol authorities! And then what'll happen to Prim? If I rat him out too then who knows what he'll do to her? The home is awful, you know what happens there, Gale. I have to do what he wants or else we're done for."

Soon, tears begin to pool in my eyes and Gale brings me in an embrace.

He whispers into my hair, "It's going to be okay, Catnip. I promise you that it'll all be okay."

I shake my head, "You don't know, Gale."

_You don't know anything. _

He releases me after I finish sobbing and looks at me with his head tilted over to one side.

I sniffle, "What?"

He chuckles, "You know I think that the Mellark kid likes you."

I crinkle my eyebrows, "Who? Peeta?"

He nods his head.

"Hah. No way. He doesn't."

When I look at Gale he seems about fourteen years old, with his head down and his feet squirming on the ground.

"Do…do you like him?" he asks.

I laugh, "No, Gale, I don't. I don't even know him that well."

He shakes his head slowly, "Okay."

I take a small glance through the window and see Prim playing with Posy.

"Just tell Prim that I'll pick her up in the morning, it's Saturday tomorrow anyway."

Gale gives a curt nod and gives me another hug.

"Be careful."

* * *

I stomp through my front door and yell out, "Cray! I need to talk to you!"

The ferocity of my voice is so high that it's enough to make a wild dog tremble and hide.

I storm through the living room, ignoring the distinct smell of alcohol and smoke. I shield my eyes from Cray's 'friends' and other hopeless and desperate teenage girls.

When I find him I see him mauling the face off of my mother. I grab him by his shirt and slam him against the wall – my adrenaline pumping.

"What the hell are you doing to my house?" I sneer.

"Calm down Katniss-"

"Calm down? That's a bit of an unreasonable request don't you think?" I spit out, my face inches from his.

"Katniss get off him!" my mother screeches.

She pulls my loose braid hard and throws me off him.

Her hands grab me by my shirt and she whispers venomously in my ear, "Get inside the bedroom."

I snatch my shirt away from her and return her snarl. I twirl on my feet and stride to the bedroom, whilst ignoring the shocked looks of the other revolting occupants of this house.

* * *

After Cray enters, my mother shuts the door with a loud slam and locks it.

She turns to face me and puts her hands on her hips.

I mimic her.

"Well," I look at both of them, "do you want to tell me what's going on? Why are they here already?"

"Katniss!" my mother scolds, "watch your tongue."

I fold my arms and give her a piercing look, "Why should I? You don't. You're too busy sticking it down his throat!"

"Is that any way that you should talk to your mother?" she asks, horrified.

"You're not my mother."

"Yes, I am!"

"Well you sure aren't acting like it!"

Her mouth gapes, "You will talk to me with respect!"

"I will once you _earn _my respect," I retort.

We stand in the middle of Prim and mine's bedroom, sizing each other up with nasty looks.

"Now, are you going to tell me why they're here already? Why so quick, Cray? Hm?"

He takes a sharp look back to the locked door and back to me.

"I told them when they came by this morning that they were to come here at seven every evening."

"What if someone new comes along? How will they know where to go?" I ask.

"I'll be at the house during the mornings and afternoons, if they come there I'll ask them to come here."

I shake my head at him, narrowing my eyes, "You're one sick bastard, Cray."

If looks could kill – then he'd be dead a long time ago.

"That is _enough!_" my mother roars.

She prances on me and pushes me against the wall. I can feel my braid being tugged back hard to face her and she slaps me with her free hand.

Because I was pushed against the wall when my mother slapped me; my face catapulted back into it with such force that it made me dizzy.

I groan in pain.

"What happened to you, mom?" I ask with my face pressed against the wall.

"I saw that being weak gets you nowhere," she sneers venomously against my ear and knees my back.

The pain is too much and I slide to the ground shrieking in agony.

Salty tears begin to stream down my face as my mother knees me in the stomach and slap my face again, which forces my head to slam down onto the floor.

The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

And when my mother brings her hand up again I hear Cray shout.

"Stop! That's enough."

My arms are defending my body as I stare up to my mother, her eyes scrutinizing my body.

She drops her hand and walks out of the room, locking it behind her and leaving me to cry and bleed under the moonlight that's straying from the small window.

I can't bring myself to crawl up onto the bed so I curl up into a fetal position on the floor in the same spot and continue crying.

Soon, I find myself falling asleep.

And that night I dream of a boy with blue eyes and blonde hair that are as golden as the dandelions that surround him.

But all things truly wicked start from an innocence.

* * *

**I hated the first part of this chapter to be honest. But I slept on my frustrations and when I wrote the second half I was quite pleased (:**

**I know that Mrs. Everdeen is extremely OOC but she's incredibly corrupted by alcohol and by Cray and she's guarding her heart to the extent that she's beginning to hurt other people. **

**Well I have a favour to ask you lovely people. **

**And I hope that you don't mind answering me. **

**But which of my multi-chapter stories do you like best? (the ones that are in process right now.)**

**1: Kingdom Of Glass?**

**or**

**2: A House Of Cards?**

**It'll just help me figure out which one I should be updating with. I'll still update both at a steady pace (every 4-6 days) but I just want to know because if I get an overwhelming response then I'll definitely update one more than the other.**

**And just a heads up to my Kingdom of Glass readers: KoG officially has FOUR more chapters to go! It's coming to an end guys! –tear-**

**But if you don't read Kingdom Of Glass then that's fine (: **

**But anywayss, I hope that you liked this chapter and thank you for reading and reviewing!**

**And like always….reviews are most welcomed and appreciated :D**


	5. Chapter 5

The sun breaks the horizon of the trees, with the light slowly streaming through the window of the small room.

The bright light pierces through my closed eyelids, making the black merge with reds and oranges.

My head is throbbing with pain, I pry my eyes open to see a vacant room. My back is plastered flat on the floor, and under the palms of my hands, I feel a sticky and thick substance.

_Blood._

I stand up slowly, bones aching with a scorching fire. I groan at my reflection in the mirror – my braid has come loose, cascading in soft waves down my back, I have a huge bruise on the side of my head along with a busted lip and a gash on my forehead. The front part of my hair is matted with dried blood.

I tear my eyes away from the mirror and head for the door. I open it gently and slip out of the room and make my way into the front of the house.

It's silent, and no one is left. It's fairly clean as well.

I grab a note that's been left on the kitchen table. It looks like it's been written in haste.

_Katniss,  
For the benefit of both Prim and yourself, I have allowed you two to keep the house to yourselves on Saturdays and Sundays. Business with resume on Monday at seven pm. I'm sorry for last night's encounter, so check under the sink for some medicine to help with your injuries._

_Don't wear yourself out._

_-Cray._

I scoff, sickened by this gesture. Does he think that this is okay? That a small apology will fix everything that he has done to my family? If he does, then he thought wrong. Nothing he can do will fix this, my family is too broken to be fixed, the best thing that I can do right now is to get by and get out of this place. And I intend to take Prim with me.

I refuse to use his Peacekeeper privileges to my own benefit. I don't need his help. I don't want his help.

I turn on the sink and carefully wash my face, wincing when I hit a sensitive spot.

Finally, I cover up the bruise with a side braid on the side of the bruise but I leave the gash in view. I know that it will generate questions but I can just tell Gale that I slipped in the woods.

…Even though I don't think that he'll buy it.

* * *

I knock slowly on the door of the Hawthornes and Gale immediately opens it not a second later.

"Catnip!" he exclaims with his eyes filled with worry, but they soon darken.

"What the hell is that on your head? And what is up with your lip?"

Damn. Forget about the lip.

"It's nothing Gale. I went to the woods this morning and I tripped. Okay?" I retort.

He furrows his eyebrows at me, not buying my reason one bit.

"Katniss…"

I groan, "Seriously! It's nothing! Now, tell Prim that I'll be back after I trade at the bakery."

He nods his head, "She was worried about you, you know. She knows what's going on."

"I know she does. But some things are meant to be dealt with without her there."

* * *

With the lone bird that I caught two days ago clutched in my hand, I stride through the alley heading for the back of the bakery.

I've learned from over the years that Mrs. Mellark isn't home on Saturday mornings, that she takes the time to stroll through the Town with her other companions. I see her around sometimes, but she gives me nothing but a scowl.

And what do I do? _I scowl back._

I hop up the steps and knock on the back-door, fully expecting to come face-to-face with the warm-hearted baker.

But with my luck, it wasn't the case.

The door opened briskly and I came face-to-face with a medium height and a stocky built blonde boy.

I slap myself inwardly. _Peeta…_

His blue eyes are twinkling as he looks down at me. A smile breaks across his face.

"Hi Katniss," he says.

I focus my attention on the wall behind him. "Hi Peeta. Um, I'm here to trade."

Suddenly, his confident stature becomes a nervous one as he scratches the back of his neck with his hand.

"Oh, uh…m-my dad isn't here right now…"

My face drops, "I see. I'll just come by later then."

"Huh? No, that's not necessary. I…I guess I can do it for you," he offers.

I take him in, his hair is covered in flour along with his cheeks and his nose, making him appear fairer than he already is. He's wearing a tattered blue apron with _'Mellark's' _printed on it. Icing is smeared on his hands as well as his shirt.

He takes the bird out of my hand and scrambles into the front of the bakery. He comes back with a large bag in his hand and a nervous glint in his eyes.

"Um…here," he says while handing out the bag to me.

I grab it from him and take a look inside. My breath catches in my throat.

"Peeta, this is too much. Your dad just gives me one loaf of fresh bread. This is two loaves and half a dozen rolls."

I squirms in front of me, looking like a little boy who had just gotten told off by his mother.

"Well business is good today, and this is a really…um, really big bird so I guess you've earned it."

"Peeta…the bakery's empty," I point out.

His face turns red as he gives off a small tense laugh. "Ha. Um…right. Well we had good business yesterday and the morning rush is done."

I raise my eyebrow at him, but I shake it off and turn around. Even though I know that he's making me a charity case, which I positively despise him for it, I need the extra food for Prim and I because I know that my mom will be spending it on alcohol.

"Okay, whatever you say."

I turn and leave but he hastily grabs my arm.

"What!" I push off his hand with irritation.

He begins to gesture to his face. "What happened to your face?"

Realization fills me, so I begin to play with my hair to cover the bruises and the cut. "Nothing. I tripped in the woods."

Like Gale, he doesn't seem to believe me. Of course he doesn't, he's been and still is a victim of abuse, he knows how the injuries look like, and I know that out of anyone, I can't hide it from him.

Peeta narrows his eyes at me, "I see you trade with my dad, you get nothing more than a couple of tears on your clothes."

"What does it matter to you?"

He sighs and begins to run his hands through his hair, "Katniss, if you need help –"

"I don't need help. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

And with that said, I leave through the door and march back onto the main street, leaving a sullen look Peeta behind. Where I intend he'll stay.

* * *

The birds coo through the window in the classroom. I long to be with them, to fly to the seas of District Four, to glide through the endless and boundless forests of Seven. I long to be free, to fly like there is no tomorrow, to be the master of my own destination, without anyone else having to plan it for me.

I rest my head on the desk, and shield it with my arms. I inhale deeply. I hadn't been able to get much sleep the past two days, my head was throbbing too much and I found that whenever I would exert my head too much, then the gash would reopen. And the last thing that I need is having to clean up my own blood.

As if animal blood isn't enough.

Prim didn't buy my story, not one bit. She insisted that I come with her every night to the Hawthornes. She doesn't understand that they already have a lot on their plates, and that they're already doing me a favour by keeping Prim in their house. An added addition wouldn't do much good, especially if I'll have to be camping out there for five days a week.

Someone needs to keep the house under control, and the only reason that it was clean on Saturday morning was because Cray felt obliged to help me out after my mother lost her head.

But there's nothing that he can do to make me love him as much as I did love my father. As much as I still love him.

"Ms. Everdeen!"

My head shoots up, with my eyes wandering the room to see who called out my name in such a shrill voice.

I can hear the snickers of the merchants at the other side of the room, laughing at my embarrassment.

I could care less for them.

In fact, I don't care about them at all.

Then I see Peeta, who's shooting me a sad thing and is sticking out like a sore thumb amongst his laughing peers.

I roll my eyes.

A shadow begins to loom over me and I'm faced with the steely eyes of Mrs. Fletcher.

Her eyes pierce through me, like she's accusing me of murder.

Huh. Of course. Because a life of crime is what Seam kids are known for

"Have you started your assignment yet, Ms. Everdeen?" she interrogates with her breath crashing onto my skin, making it tingle.

I try to keep my scowl in check.

"No."

"And why haven't you?"

I shrug, "I can't think of anything to write about."

She leans back and folds her arms across her chest. "I highly doubt that, Ms. Everdeen. I am sure that there is something in your life that you have overcome."

I narrow my eyes at her. How dare she tell me this. It's like she's mocking me. Okay, I do have something that I can write about, but she has no right to read it. No one does. They don't know anything and they never will.

Opening up means attaching yourself to someone. And everyone knows that if you get attached to Katniss Everdeen, then trouble comes your way.

* * *

I sit where I usually sit at the end of each day, underneath the only tree in the courtyard outside of school.

I untie my braid and pass my time by trying out new techniques.

The hot sun burns my olive skin, but it's a nice feeling. It lets me know that I'm alive.

Time ticks by slowly, usually Prim is here by now, but the clock above the school entrance says that she's fifteen minutes late.

I begin to get agitated and nervous, what could be taking her so long?

Finally, I stand up and jog to the middle school building, my fear making the best of me. And before I can even push the door open, Prim comes bursting with tears in her eyes.

And Peeta by her side.

Suddenly, I am furious. I turn to Peeta and shove him against the school wall. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and snarl in his face.

"What did you do to her?"

His blue eyes are wide with confusion and fear. "I didn't…I didn't do anything!"

"Don't lie to me! What did you do to her?" I shout.

"Katniss!" Prim yells.

I whip around to face her, her face is still red but her eyes aren't filled with tears anymore, they're filled with anger.

"Stop hurting him! He didn't do anything! He _helped _me," she explains.

"Oh," I turn back to face Peeta, who now has a small cocky smile on his face. I let him down and mumble an apology.

"If he helped you then why are you crying?"

Prim sighs and folds her arms, "Because I got into a fight."

_A fight? Prim in a fight? Impossible._

I arch my eyebrow, "With who? And why did you get in a fight? You know that they don't do any good. You should know that they're not worth it."

"Oh really? So you think that you're not worth it?"

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, confused.

"A girl in my class insulted you. She said that you were a whore like our mother. Peeta, here," she jabs her thumb to the direction of the baker's son, "helped me out."

I look at Peeta who's standing in the corner trying to be invisible.

"Thanks."

His head snaps up, "Oh, it was nothing."

"Well still. Thank you," I face Prim and ruffle her hair, "Come on, let's go home little duck."

She nods her head, "Okay."

I look back at Peeta, "Bye."

He nods curtly, "Bye Katniss."

* * *

Prim and I walk out of the school gates silently, walking side by side. Usually Prim makes conversation, but today she doesn't. I guess the sensation is new for her – being in a fight. I haven't been in physical fights a lot, I usually keep to myself. But I know the feeling of being insulted, I've lived with it. But Prim doesn't know the feeling, she's always been loved by both Seam and Merchant families. Seam upbringing. Merchant looks. Kind. Funny. Loving. Innocent.

She's perfect. Unlike me.

A lot of boys already like her. She's oblivious to it, of course. No one has ever liked me. What's there to like?

"Hey!"

I whip around, curious to who is calling.

Peeta comes running up to us, huffing for breath as he tries to regain his composure. "Mind if I join you?"

I raise my eyebrow at him, and I'm about to reply until Prim cuts me off.

"Of course!"

I look at him, blinking at his movements. "You realize that you probably have work today? And that the Seam is a bit far from the bakery?"

I'm lying. The Seam isn't far from the bakery at all.

He chuckles softly, "Nah. My shift starts at five o'clock. And I don't have much to do today anyway."

"You don't have to walk with us."

"I want to."

"Okay."

Peeta smiles warmly, "Consider it as a debt repaid. You know, for today."

I bit the inside of my cheek, contemplating his reason. He is right. I do owe him for helping Prim.

I nod my head and continue walking with Peeta making conversation with Prim.

He's right. I do owe him. I own him more that he can ever imagine. I owe him my life but I don't think that he remembers that. I'm not sure if I want him to remember that. It'll just make me even more of a charity case.

But maybe there's more to Peeta Mellark than what meets the eye.

I think back to what Prim said earlier, in the courtyard of the school.

'_Oh really? So you think that you're not worth it?'_

No, Prim. I don't think I'm worth it.

* * *

**Sorry sorry sorry sorry for taking so long! Sorry! Ive been busy! But anyway, I won't take your time. **

**Thank you for answering my question! It's very appreciated! A House Of Cards will be receiving my full attention now!**

**Anywayss, thank you for reading and reviewing you lovely people! :3**

**And like always….reviews are appreciated (:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry I couldn't update sooner! I was travelling! Again! Anyway, now that I've reached my destination (*coughcoughPhilippinescoughco ugh*) I can now post up this chapter!**

**Hope you guys like it and thank you for reading and reviewing so far! :D**

* * *

I shuffle inside the house with Prim hanging closely on my hip. November is coming to an end and the weather indicates that this winter is going to be a cold and long one.

I let out a puff of breath and shut the door, battling against the breeze that has approached Twelve.

Peeta left us on the border dividing the Seam and the Merchant Quarters – it's quite a distinct division, with the Merchant Quarter's set on cobblestone while the Seam is stationed on soft soil.

I didn't talk to him, I didn't even try to. But he did.

I don't know what's going on in his head; why the sudden interest in my life?

And more importantly, why was he in the junior section of the school? As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't have any younger siblings, being the youngest one himself.

I'm uneasy to trust him. Besides, he's making me his charity case, that much is obvious. And I don't like it. Not at all.

"Katniss, what's for lunch?" Prim asks.

I shake my head, trying to clear it of thoughts about Peeta Mellark.

"Oh, um. There's a couple of rolls left in the cupboard. You finish them, I need to hunt anyway."

She squints her eyes, "No, Katniss. You're sharing this with me. You're going to hunt when we're done eating _our _lunch _together._"

I chuckle softly, "You're demanding. Aren't you, little duck?"

"Yes!" she beams up at me.

She walks into the dirty kitchen, and opens the cupboard with the broken handle. Inside, there's a lone bag with the name _'Mellark's' _printed on it.

Damn it. Him again.

Prim begins to divide the rolls and set the table while I watch her. She's grown so much, she's tall for her age, though not as tall as me just yet. But her figure is significantly better than the others living in Twelve – it's the body of a healthy child.

Her face is full and rosy, with naturally pink cheeks and fair skin. Recently, she's been putting her hair in braids just like me, except she does it more intricately and more complicated.

"Well, are you just going to stand there or eat with me?"

I snap out of my thoughts and I see her with her hands on her hips and a playful smile on her lips.

I smile, "Right."

I take the seat opposite her and split my first roll in half. She's divided it so we get two each.

I place it in my mouth and chew. Flavour explodes in my mouth. Cinnamon. A rare delicacy.

"These are amazing. Peeta's really good at this stuff," she says while savouring the taste of the roll.

I drop mine on the table and stare at her. "Yeah, um, I guess he is."

"Of course he is! You know he's the one that designs the cakes at the bakery? And he's the one that frosts the cookies? Those were always the best!" she exclaims.

I groan at her new found fondness. "Yes. He's good at his job."

"Oh it's not a job. He told me so. He said that it's only a job if you got paid, and he's not getting paid."

"Uh-huh."

"He also said that they eat stale bread. That they don't eat things fresh because they're not allowed."

That gets my attention.

"What?"

Prim smirks, "Yeah. He said that he can't have fresh bread. That him and his family only eat stale bread with squirrel stew."

And this is when it dawns on me. Sure, Peeta's family is one of the wealthier ones in the District, but that doesn't mean that they get special treatment. They can't consume their own merchandise. And like Gale has said so many times before – the Capitol doesn't care about the Districts, much less the poorest one. If they feel like it, they can cut off the supply train at any moment with a push of a button. And that means that fuel for the lights underground are gone and the businesses in the town will collapse.

The advantage that Gale and I have is that even if that happens, we'll still have food on our plates at the end of the day.

And if Peeta and his family can't eat their merchandise, and if the chance that their supplies are cut off, they're solely living and relying on me.

They need me as much as I need them.

* * *

I shrug on my father's hunting jacket and tie my hunting boots while Prim is licking the remaining cinnamon off her fingers.

"I'm just going to be out for a little while okay? After you eat just go to Gale's."

She nods her head, "Yeah I know Katniss. You keep telling me."

I grin, "Just making sure that it's drilled inside your head."

"I'm pretty sure that it's tattooed on my brain."

"Good."

I zip up my jacket firmly and rub my arms, trying to get as much warmth as I can before I leave.

"Take your warm clothes okay? I don't want you getting a cold."

"I know Katniss," Prim sighs.

I stride over to her and place a kiss on her forehead, "Bye, little duck."

And before she can answer, Cray bursts open the front door, heaving heavily.

"What are you doing here this early?" I ask with an arched brow.

"I need to get things set up," he replies.

"Right…"

"The wind's pretty strong out there. Be careful Katniss. Don't want you injuring yourself," he says.

I scoff at him. I think inwardly: _What? More than I already am?_

He walks into the kitchen and begins to pour a glass of water for himself.

"I noticed that you didn't use the medicine that I gave you a couple days ago. Why didn't you?"

I snarl, "I don't need your help. I don't _want _your help."

Prim's eyes are flittering back and forth to the both of us, watching us like a tennis match.

"There's nothing wrong with getting help," he retorts.

"There is if it's from you!"

His mouth gapes open and I shoot daggers. I wrinkle my nose and step towards the front door with Prim already waiting outside.

And just before I'm about to leave, Cray speaks up once again.

"You can keep your game today. I have enough savings to last me through the winter."

* * *

After dropping off Prim at the Hawthornes, I head to the woods alone. Gale hunted yesterday.

The woods are silent, like always. I'm light on my feet as I walk cautiously through the trees, my hunter instincts alive and alert to any movement.

The animals are beginning to clear out for the upcoming harsh winter, but that doesn't stop me from keeping an eye out for them, if anything it makes me more determined.

I'm going to need all the luck I can get if Prim and I are to survive this winter. I don't want to steal from my mother's own savings from selling herself, I don't need her dirty cash. They'll just taint my hands.

An hour and a half after I stepped into the woods, I come out with five squirrels and four rabbits with a couple of berries for good measure.

The Hob is boiling inside, the fires are raging at Greasy Sae's station, obviously preparing hot meals for the upcoming rush of black marker traders.

And opposite her is a person that I didn't expect to see here today. Peeta.

The blonde boy is chatting away happily with the older woman, looking genuinely interesting in their conversation.

I sigh and run my hands through my messed up braid. This boy never seems to leave me alone.

"Hi, Sae. I got some squirrels and rabbits for you," I say while sitting down next to Peeta. I can feel his eyes trailed on the side of my head.

"Hi, girl, thank you. You better stock up on your meat though, winter's comin'."

I smile softly, "Yeah, I know. I plan to hunt as much as I can until it starts snowing."

She nods and takes three squirrels and one rabbit in exchange for a full pouch of coins.

As she begins to store away everything, she looks up and gives me a toothless smile and then her eyes flicker over to Peeta.

"Say, how about a bowl of nice hot squirrel soup. On the house?" she suggests.

I put my hands up, "Oh it's okay, it's not necessary."

"Nonsense! You out of all people deserve it! And anyway, I gave Gale one yesterday, I think you deserve one too."

I chuckle at her determined spirit, "Yeah, sure then."

"Well then you're going to have to wait a bit while I make a new broth. Peeta here got the last bowl. Speaking of which, how is it Peet?"

He grins at her, "It's lovely, Sae."

"Good answer!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm. And judging by the way that Peeta treats Sae, maybe he isn't all that bad. But still, the way that he freely gives me stuff unnerves me.

I watch as Greasy Sae gets the ingredients ready and how she prepares them for the stew. I need to learn how to make stew this winter, because we usually live on bread.

"Aren't you two quiet, go talk to each other!" Sae exclaims.

I groan inwardly, I wasn't planning on talking to Peeta, I was hoping that this arrangement would match the one we had with Prim – we'd keep to ourselves.

He clears this throat and begins to initiate conversation, "So…um how were the woods today?"

I snarl quietly, it's not his business to meddle with mine.

"Fine."

"I'm sure that it was a bit hard though, because winter's coming so all the animals are preparing for hibernation."

I blink at him. Surely a baker wouldn't know this much about animals?

"Um…yeah, it was a bit hard, but I got through."

He laughs, "Yeah, I can see that."

The corners of my lips turn up unintentionally.

Peeta coughs roughly, "You know…I – I think that what you do is really amazing."

I look at him with my eyebrow raised. "Thanks, I guess. I do what I have to do."

"Gosh, I wonder how it's like out there," he says while shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

I smile while thinking of my saviour – the woods.

"It's beautiful and so green. And it's so peaceful when the sun rises in the morning. And when it's autumn, the forest looks like it's on fire because it's so red. And the sun…the way that it peeks through the trees makes them shine."

He laughs, his blue eyes twinkling with wonder. He begins to point to his eyes, "Your eyes turn glassy when you talk about the woods. You must really love it."

"I do. I really do. I love the freedom that I feel when it welcomes me into its arms," I explain.

Greasy Sae turns around and hands me my bowl. "Nice to know that you two are getting along. It's quite rare that Town and Seam kids get along."

Peeta shrugs, "I don't really see why we should ostracize each other. I mean, we're all people. We're all the same. I think it's stupid that we have this rivalry, I don't see the point in it."

Greasy Sae and I gape at him. Not because of his confession, but because of the fact that since he's the son of the District witch, it's a wonder of why he thinks like this.

I shake my head and take a spoonful of stew.

"One of your better dishes, Sae."

She chuckles, "Oh, girl, _all _of my dishes are first class."

I snort, "Sure."

"Watch it."

I put my hands in front on me in mock defense and continue to eat.

"So…when did you start coming to the Hob?" I ask.

His spoon _clanks _on his empty bowl as he looks at me. I notice that his eyes are the same shade of blue as the sky.

"Well, ever since I turned fourteen. Before that, my dad used to take me so I could get used to it. My brothers don't come here though, and my mother doesn't even know that my father and I come here," he replies.

Of course she doesn't. The Hob is situated on Seam soil, and anything relating to the Seam makes her sick to her stomach.

Peeta reaches for his bag and takes out a piece of paper and a pencil. Then he begins to draw rapidly on it.

"And anyway, I don't really care if she finds out that I come here. She can't stop me from coming, I mean, the people here are more like my family."

My stomach twists, it's the same situation for me. Greasy Sae is more like a mother than my own, and I'm assuming that she is to him as well.

"Does she…um, does she still…you know?" I ask, nervous to be asking.

He looks up from the sheet of paper and raises his eyebrow, "Who? My mom?"

I nod.

He shrugs, "Sometimes. It's not really a big deal anymore. Because after a while, all of it just becomes numb. It's like I'm not even there anymore."

I narrow my eyes at him, "It is a big deal, Peeta."

"I can take it, I have for years."

I place my head on the palms of my hands and look at him. "You know, someone once told me that there's nothing wrong with getting a little bit of help."

His eyes widen in amusement and I laugh at his expression. Peeta soon joins in, abandoning his drawing.

While we're laughing with each other, someone clears their throat.

"Catnip."

I stop abruptly and look behind me. Gale stands there with his arms folded and a pouch full of pennies hanging on his belt.

"Hey, Gale."

He nods at me then glares at Peeta. "Mellark."

Peeta gives him a small wave and then stands up.

"Thanks for the stew Sae, I really loved it."

She turns around and smiles warmly at him. "No problem, Peeta. Tell your father I said hi."

He smiles, "Will do." He shoves a couple of coins in his pocket and takes the bag beside him.

While walking past me he nods curtly and hands me the piece of paper, "Bye Katniss."

"Bye Peeta."

Then he's out the door and disappears from sight, leaving a trail of coal dust behind.

Gale gives me a sharp look and walks away.

I sigh, knowing that he's angry at me for fraternizing with the 'enemy.' But even if I don't want to admit it, I enjoyed talking to Peeta, it was like I forgot all of my problems and I was able to act my age even if it was just for a few moments.

And I'm grateful for it, I really am.

I shove the sheet of paper in my pocket without looking at it and follow Gale. I soon find myself in the tailor's section of the Hob.

"Look Gale, I found him here, that's all. And Sae insisted that we talk, I wasn't planning on it in the beginning."

He huffs, "Well, it sure looks like you were enjoying yourself."

I stop in my place and fold my arms. "Is that wrong?"

He runs his hands through his hair, something that he does when he's frustrated. "Yes!"

"Why?" I tap my foot on the ground impatiently.

"He's the enemy! Do you have any idea what the townies are going to do to you when they find out that you're actually becoming friends with the baker's kid? Do you have any idea what's going to happen to him?" he exclaims.

As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Seam and Merchant kids are enemies, so by talking to me, Peeta immediately becomes an enemy by association.

I stop tapping my foot and lean against the wall, staring at him with hard eyes. "You're being unreasonable. It was a one time thing, okay?"

Gale snorts, obviously unconvinced. "Sure it was, like him walking you home was a one time thing as well right?"

I stare at him.

"Looks like I'm right then."

"It is a one time thing!" I growl.

Gale shakes his head and turns around, looking at the thick fabric that's meant to be used for the winter.

I smirk, "You think he's taking me away from you don't you? You're jealous."

He stands up quickly, and begins to rub his neck with obvious embarrassment.

"I-um…I…"

I laugh, "Gale, you're my best friend. He's not even my friend, okay? There' s nothing going on! The reason that he walked with Prim and I is because he helped Prim when she got into a fight. I owed him. That's all.

"I didn't even talk to him. I found him here after I came back from the woods and Sae offered me a bowl of stew, how could I refuse? And she told us to talk so we did. Nothing more.

"We are _nothing._"

* * *

I stand on my front porch and take a deep breath. _Okay, here goes. _

I twist the knob and push the door open, being greeted with half-naked woman and sex-driven men.

I scoff and close the door. My nostrils flare up with the vulgar smell and I pull my jacket up to breath into it. It smells of fresh air and the woods.

I notice my mother in the kitchen, drinking to her hearts content while Cray is dealing with an angry customer in the living room.

"You said that there was going to be hot girls here! I don't see them!" he slurs.

Cray sighs, "Listen, if you don't like it, get out."

The man chortles, obviously amused. "I'm not leaving, I paid the entrance fee and I'm going to get what I'm coming for!"

The man spins around and his eyes lay on me. His eyes greedily devour my body, lingering on my breasts.

"Her, I want her," he tells Cray while pointing to me.

I curl up my lips and sneer in disgust.

Cray shakes his head, "No, sorry. She's off limits."

"The hell she is!"

The man begins to approach me with lustful eyes and I can see that he's about to lunge.

I dodge him and sprint towards the other side of the house, my hands are fondling with my pockets searching for the key to my bedroom when he catches up to me.

I scream when I get slammed into the door. _Too late. I was too late. _

Why didn't I get out of there when I had the chance? _Because he would've gone after you anyway, Katniss._

Tears begins to pool into my eyes are he holds my hands up in a vice grip above my head. I am paralyzed in fear.

"No! Please!"

I take the man in – he's wearing a faded grey shirt with his stomach bulging out of it, he has a scruffy beard and insane eyes. He must be one of the criminals that have been recently stealing food from the merchants, it would explain his full stomach.

He brings his hand up and wipes away my tears. "Now, now. Don't cry. It won't hurt."

"Please, no…" I beg.

His hand begins to travel from my shoulder down to my back, securing me in his grasp. He pins my legs against the wall with his knees as he kisses my neck.

_No. No. No. _

"Mom! Mom please help me!" I screech.

For the first time in a long time, I yearn my mother's affection. I need it.

The man is off me suddenly and he's on the floor, gasping for air.

I breathe out and let the tears keep falling. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cray dragging the man out of the house and ordering everyone out, calling it a night.

I finally find my key and unlock the door. But before entering I whisper to Cray, doubting that he'll hear me.

"Thank you."

* * *

Cray never tried to see if I was okay, but from his face I could see that he was horrified with what happened. I can tell that he was embarrassed, that he didn't want to face me because it was technically this fault as to why it happened.

But even with the incident, I know that it will continue, he may have been compassionate for one moment, but money and greed rule everyone, and it soon sucks everyone into its grasp.

First Cray. Then my mother.

It won't change anything.

I crawl into the corner of the room and let my sobs rock my body. I scratch my neck, trying to get the feeling of him off me. I scratch until the underneath of my nails are filled with blood.

I bury my face into my hands and try to shake the image of what he could've done to me away.

I take slow steps towards the bed and climb under the covers, discarding my clothes in the process and just leaving me in my underwear. I don't want it. I don't want the clothes that the man touched. I don't want them. I don't want them.

Before I close my eyes, I see a piece of paper beside my discarded pants. I remember that Peeta had given it to me before he left. I bend over and pick it up, unravelling it.

My breath stops short as I see the person in front of me. She's beautiful – her hair is pinned in a messy braid that's hanging lazily over her shoulder and her face is flawless. But her eyes haunt me, the grey and haunted look shows the weight of the world in her eyes. Unlike the rest of her face, which is young and graceful, her eyes look old and worn.

I breathe. This is me.

Is this how he sees me? Because this beautiful young woman cannot possibly be me. I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. But in this picture…I am as radiant as the sun.

I clutch it softly in my hands as I fall back onto the bed. I curl my feet and close my eyes.

And with Peeta's picture in my hands, I feel safer than I have ever been before.

* * *

**TEN PAGES! OH YA. Anyways, sorry if you guys felt a little uncomfortable there, but this is a story that deals with prostitution, so it's inevitable that something like this will happen.**

**I won't say much, but I would like to ask a question if you don't mind.**

**Should I keep this fic **_**Rated T?**_** Or change it to **_**Rated M?**_

**I would absolutely love it if you guys would answer! (:**

**Anways, thank you for reading and reviews are appreciated! :D **


	7. Chapter 7

**IMPORTANT A/N: Relating to my decision whether to change the rating of this fic, I have most certainly taken all of your suggestions/opinions into account, however I would like to address that when and if I change this to **_**Rated M**_**, it will NOT have explicit and graphic sex scenes. I am not that kind of writer. The sole reason that I'm contemplating this change is because of the subject matter. **

**Prostitution is not a light subject – and for some, it's disturbing. And it isn't and shouldn't be taken lightly. THAT is the reason why I am thinking to change the rating. **

**Now, I received a review from a guest which demanded that I update 10 or more chapters on Thursday or else they will kill me. I am fully aware that this was exaggerated and/or they were joking, BUT, it is not appreciated. I can handle flames, but funny threats I cannot do. It made me uneasy and resulted in postponing my update because I was frustrated, which is sad because I was initially planning to update on Thursday. **

**To the person/people who did write the review: If you are reading this, I am fully glad that you like my story, I am extremely flattered, but I hope that you understand that those type of jokes are not respected. **

**Now that it's all off my chest, I hope you enjoy this chapter (:**

* * *

Sweat dribbles down the nape of my neck and my nails cling onto the messy bedsheets. A horrible choked noise comes from my throat and I cry out. I fling my body to the side and I tumble to the floor, taking the sweat soaked sheets down with me.

I groan in irritation as I rub the back of my head, moaning as I feel the bump that seems to be forming.

The bed is a mess – a third of the mattress is out of its place, the sheets are on the floor and wet patches of sweat decorate both items.

I try to control my breathing, alternating my thoughts to make sure that I don't forget how to breathe.

_In. Out. In. Out._

It's been a recurring nightmare these past few days. After the near-incident of my almost-rape, the man comes back to me in my dreams, tainting my slumber. Along with the horror of my reality, sleep seemed to be my only refuge, but even that is now a living nightmare.

I sigh and stare at the crumpled piece of paper on the bedside table. On the first couple of nights, the small possession was clutched in my hands as I fell into unconsciousness, but it soon started to get worn, and I had to keep it on the table beside my bed to prevent it from ripping.

I stare at it once it's in my hands. There are creases, and small rips on the sides, but the drawing is still intact. I ponder for a moment whether the man saw me as this stunning woman. Was this why he wanted me?

_No, Katniss. You're not thinking about that monster tonight._

The morning after, Cray had disappeared, leaving a pouch full of coins which he dubbed as a 'compensation' in his note. My mother was locked in her room, sleeping her hangover off.

When I got home from school that day with Prim, she was still in her room, I didn't see her until the next morning.

She didn't say anything to me. Nor did she acknowledge my presence.

And that _stung._

Because despite whatever has happened, she was still my mother. She was still that loving woman who used to care for me when I got hurt, she was still that woman who wiped the tears away.

And yet she never even lifted a finger when her eldest daughter was being harassed.

Suddenly, I yearned for her affection, just to hold me and tell me that it's okay. And for one moment, I close my eyes and feel her arms around me, just like she used to hold me when I was a little girl.

I'm mad at myself because I find out that I'd rather have her hit me rather than having her ignore me: because at least it'd let me know that she's aware I'm alive.

I breathe and stand up, in need to relieve my thoughts. I grab my clothes from the back of a chair and quickly change into them, not bothering with my loose hair.

I climb through the window, escaping the place which was once my home.

I stare back at it once I'm far away enough. In a flashback, I can see myself through the window with my father gently throwing me up in the air and catching my in his comforting arms. And Prim giggles in the corner while my mother tickles her senseless.

We didn't have much, but we had each other. And that was more than we ever needed.

The happy memory fades into a grim one as I'm faced with the present house that's devoid of life and happiness, that reflects nothing but despair.

I started using the window to enter the house after I dropping off Prim at the Hawthornes every day. I didn't want a repeat of what happened a few days ago. It's sad that I can't use the front door safely, to use it without the threat of someone harassing me looming over my head.

The moon creates a soft glow over Twelve. It highlights the coal dust that's quietly settled on the Seam shacks, and brightens the white houses of those in the Town.

The perfect picture of two different worlds.

The soil underneath my boots turns into grass and I know that I'm in the right place.

The meadow had always been my sanctuary after the woods. No one comes here that much, it's too close to the woods, and they're afraid that they might be accused of something treacherous.

I crouch and sit in front of a sturdy tree who's leaves have now fallen off. I lean against it and admire the sky. I imagine myself beyond them, being amongst those past the stars.

I long to be a girl of the sky.

I'm disturbed from my trance as a moving shadow trudges up the meadow.

I pull my jacket to fit over my knees and bow my head into it. The darkness that the tree casts over might be enough to hide me from sight.

I hear the flapping of a bird's wing and the sound of it squawking while it flies away. Someone must have disturbed it.

My head lifts slowly and I peek one eye out of my jacket to come face to face with a familiar face.

"What are you doing here, Peeta?" I ask.

He shrugs and sits down beside me. His face looks tired and grave underneath the moonlight, however it highlights his blue eyes even more.

His lips remain pursed as he clutches his knees closer to his chest. "My parents were fighting again."

In my short time with my entire family, there was hardly a time when we raised our voices at each other. It was practically unheard of. The only real argument that my family went through was when my mother was furious over my father teaching me The Hanging Tree.

"Oh."

He lets out a non-comical laugh. "You know it's funny."

I let out a huff of breath. I don't particularly want to talk to him, I just wanted to be alone. But I let my curiosity get the best of me.

_Curiosity killed the cat, Katniss._

"What is?"

"How I pretend that everything's okay, that my life is perfect. When it's not. Not even close."

I twiddle my thumbs on the hem of my shirt and sigh. "Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I guess I just feel like you're the only one that won't judge me."

"What about your friends?"

"Them? They don't care. They're just superficial and pretentious people," he snorts.

"You know sometimes I wish that I could be brave like you. I don't want to feel alone, so I take it upon myself to endure their sick jokes and ridiculous behaviour. But you don't mind being alone," he continues.

I glance at Peeta to find him staring at the buildings of the Town with a sad look on his face. His eyes are rimmed with red and I notice that his fingers are twitching slightly.

"It's better being alone sometimes. There's no one to hurt you."

His lips curl up slightly, "Yeah, but sometimes being alone is what hurts the most."

"Maybe."

* * *

Peeta left after an hour. After our conversation, I ventured into the woods, leaving him alone to think. I saw him walking back to the Town in the distance.

I can't say that I enjoyed that night. Perhaps it was because it was too personal. It touched on issues that most people would prefer not to share. Yet Peeta shared them with me.

So I decided that there is more to the baker's son than what meets the eye.

And perhaps, I wouldn't mind spending more time with him.

I stayed on top of the highest tree that I could find after I went into the woods. And I stayed perched on the highest branch until the sun peeked through the trees.

Gale came by shortly afterwards, he didn't expect to see me there though. He got the shock of his life once I dropped down in front of him looking much worse for wear.

But I suppose he didn't mind, we hadn't really talked after our accidental meeting in the Hob. We didn't even interact when I dropped of Prim at his house every day.

It wasn't a good day, we hardly got anything. The animals had dispersed into their shelters for the winter, refusing to come out until the wind ceased. Unfortunately for Gale and I, the lowest point of wind speed is during school hours.

Which is beginning to prove to be an increasing irritation in my life.

Mrs. Fletcher has continuously pestered me about my English essay on life obstacles. Her determination is one to be admired, but it's going to get her nowhere.

I unwrap a small piece of cloth to reveal the small berries that I gathered with Gale earlier that morning. My stomach growls when my eyes rest upon them. When was the last time I ate?

Slowly, I shakily pick one up and pop it into my mouth. It's bitter and leaves a sour taste in my mouth, matching my mood in its entirety.

For the past couple of weeks, Madge has had to leave her love for strawberries behind. Today, she settles with two fresh pieces of bread that's filled with nuts and raisins. I will myself not to stare.

The cold weather has taken its toll on the student body. Merchants and Seam kids alike have been plagued with colds and coughs. Since my mother has long abandoned her healing duties, and Prim is much too young to start up the huge responsibility, they either have to deal with it or visit the local apothecary and get billed an obscene amount of money.

I'd choose to stick it out.

After finishing my small helping of berries, I pack up and bid farewell to Madge. But in the midst of standing up, a hand is placed on my shoulder and I stiffen.

Slowly, I turn around and meet the blue eyes of Mallis Filler.

His lips are upturned in a cold, teasing smirk.

"Hello, Everdeen."

I turn to Madge to beg for an escape but I see that her eyes are transfixed on the boy in front of her.

Reluctantly, I face Mallis with a tight smile. "Filler."

His eyes are cold, distant and sly, nothing like another blonde boy that pops into my mind.

Mallis slides in beside me with the stealth of a fox. He leans his hands on the table and faces me. That's when I notice that Madge has disappeared, leaving me alone with the grocer's son.

"You know…" he begins softly, "word on the grapevine is that you have a little business going on in your home." His hand touches my thigh and I shrug it squirming away from him.

"Mind giving me a little customer service?" he purrs. His hand flitters up to my face and tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, caressing my earlobe suggestively.

My breathing gets ragged as images from that night flutter through my brain.

_Katniss, remember how to breathe._

"No," my voice is surprisingly firm.

"Aw, and why not? Like mother like daughter, right?" he winks.

I push his hand off me and punch him in the face. His body retracts from mine and he crumples on the floor.

"Don't you _dare _compare me to her. And don't you _dare _touch me again!" I scream.

Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria are fixed on us. However, I don't feel small, I feel strong, like I've conquered an obstacle.

Seam girls are notorious for putting out despite not being ready. And to conquer that stereotype publicly is enough to make me feel strong. However I know that I might become a target for the Merchant kids because I assaulted one of their kind. But I highly doubt that it'll be anything physical, because from the look of their faces, they won't be putting their hands on me anytime soon.

Blood is dripping Mallis' nose as he stands up. His eyes are filled with boundless fury.

He approaches me menacingly in front of an audience as I stand my ground. No, I will not let him have control of me. I will fight back.

Right now, I am on fire.

With my flames challenging his, we are slowly burning each other with glares.

"Why you little whore!" His hand lifts up, preparing to slap me in the face, but suddenly its firmly clasped in someone's hand and Mallis is being restrained.

"Don't touch her!"

That voice is eerily familiar. It's the same one that occupied me last night. Peeta.

He has both arms of Mallis' arms locked firmly behind the owner while Mallis is kicking at him.

"Did you see what she did to me, Peet? Did you? The little whore deserves it!" he fumes.

A small tug pulls at my heart.

"Calm down, man! I saw what I saw! But you shouldn't be hitting a girl!" Peeta replies back to his friend. He was right, they do have ridiculous behaviour and sick jokes.

I narrow my eyes at both of them and stalk out of the cafeteria. The talk will die down in a few days, a couple of weeks maximum. But that talk won't focus on Mallis and I, but rather why Peeta helped me.

The rumors will start. But let them.

And yet, I can't help but be a little mad at Peeta. Sure, he may have provided a small ounce of comfort during the hard nights and he may have related to me on some aspects, but did he think that I was not strong enough to handle my own fight? Did he not know what I could do with a bow and arrow? My arms have gained muscles from years of pulling back on a firm string.

Ever since we had started interacting – no – ever since _he _had started interacting with me, trouble began to follow us.

I stuff my stuff into my locker and take my stuff for Panem History, a class without Peeta.

"Katniss!"

I groan and shut my locker, mimicking that day that he gave me his math sheet.

"What do you want Peeta?" I say coldly.

"Are you okay?"

I grind my teeth and snarl at him. "Did you think that I couldn't handle myself? I'm not weak."

His worried expression is replaced with a baffled one. "I know. But I thought that you would appreciate it. Mallis doesn't back down easily."

"Appreciate it?" I start, "Do you realize what you've just done?"

He runs his hands through his hair in exasperation, "What? What have I done?"

"You 'protected' me in front of everyone! Imagine what they're going to say? They're never going to leave us alone! At least not for a while. And from our conversation last night, we both know that we prefer being alone," I explain.

"Well I'm sorry if I wanted to help," he says sadly, "but you're the one who told me a couple of days ago that there's nothing wrong with getting help! You're such a hypocrite!" his demeanour changes.

"A hypocrite?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes! You contradict yourself left and right! And I'm so tired of trying to be your friend!"

"Then stop making me feel so guilty!" I scream. My eyes widen in realization of what I just said and I clamp my hands over my mouth.

Peeta's eyebrows arch, "Guilty? What are you talking about? How the hell am I making you feel guilty?"

I sigh and take my hands off my mouth, preparing for a conversation that's been delayed for much too long.

"Because of the bread."

"The bread?"

"Yes. The bread. You fed me a few years ago. You saved me. But...but I couldn't even face you after that, I felt so indebt to you and I couldn't even bring myself to say thank you. And now, you've been so open and so nice and I've been nothing but cold to you," I look away from him in shame. I hang my head down, unable to face him.

"Katniss, I never expected you to pay me back," he shrugs. "But if you really want too…" his voice trails off.

I fold my arms and look at him expectantly, irritation surely etched all over my face.

"If you really want too, you can do me a favour."

I narrow my eyes, "What is it?"

He rolls back and forth on the heels of his feet, looking shy. He looks at me with a boyish smile.

"You can take me to the woods."

I turn around and walk away from him, contemplation tugging on my mind.

"We'll see."

* * *

**This turned out longer than planned. :P**

**Anyway, I've been sick lately as well, but I'm all good now so I got off my lazy ass and wrote. I have a 10 day limit on updating, and I can't stand not updating for 10 days :3 **

**Anyways, thank you for reading and reviewing previous chapters and reading this one! Thank you so much for all those reviews that you guys left me! Thank you to the Guests and the Users who's names I would totally list if I was not in a hurry. But seriously, thank you so so so much. I love you all! **

**And like always, reviews are welcome :D **


	8. Chapter 8

Weeks have passed, but nothing has changed. The November weeks have gone by, and now Twelve has hit December territory. It's cold, dreary and slightly depressing.

I haven't talked to Peeta much after that day. We make occasional conversation which usually consists of a "Hey," on his part and a "Hi," on mine. We're great conversers.

I've considered his request, and I'm not sure if I should take him into the woods or not. Winter has arrived and snow has fallen. I've stalled. I've stalled for too long.

People did talk after the incident in the cafeteria. They whisper in the corridor sometimes when I pass by. But a new rumour has reached school, and now the little altercation that happened a couple weeks ago has been thoroughly forgotten.

I hear that a Seam girl named Danica Fresk has been impregnated. No one knows the father.

I laughed when I heard it.

Every day is the same. I wake up, hunt, trade, pick up Prim, school, dinner, drop off Prim, climb through the window and sleep.

I know this routine. I like this routine.

But recently, hunting has been increasingly difficult. Along with me, Gale suspects that this is the harshest winter yet. Usually, we struggle during the cold months together, and once in a while, we'd stumble upon an animal. We had barely anything to share, but it kept our stomachs filled enough for the time being.

This time, however, Gale increased his hunting to three hours. He'd stop when the sun rose. I can't blame him for hunting alone – he does, after all, have more mouths to feed than I do.

But soon it became more than what he could handle. Rory had shrunk down to Vick's size while Vick had his clothes reach his knees. Posy has had to resort to her older baby clothes and Hazelle now has to pin her dresses.

Two weeks ago, Posy collapsed on a walk with Hazelle.

Gale dropped out of school for good that day.

Now he hunts as much as he can.

One time, when I'd met up with Gale in the woods, he told me that Prim whispers my name in her sleep. And, that on particularly cold nights, she'd crawl in with Hazelle and Posy just to feel like she was cuddling up with her sister.

He told me that she thinks it's not the same.

Sometimes, I get lonely in my room. The bed feels empty when it's not being weighed down by two bodies.

I miss Prim.

My mother hasn't talked to me at all. She hasn't touched me either. Sometimes, she'd knock on my door in the morning when I've overslept – just to let me known that I'm running late on my hunting time.

I know that it's more for her benefit than mine.

I keep the door locked every night and when I'm not in the house. I don't like people trespassing on my property. My room is the only thing that remains from my old life – the old before Cray and the mine explosion.

The sheets of the bed are the ones that my father bought for Prim's second birthday. The furniture is made by his hands. There's a woven piece of art hanging on the wall made by my mother.

I like to close my eyes sometimes and imagine that he's still alive.

On hard nights, when I truly feel alone, I sleep clutching my father's hunting jacket and my mother's dress that she let me borrow once.

It's only then that I let the tears fall.

* * *

Raindrops are rapping against the window. The wind is harsh today.

Today, like the other couple of days, I wasn't able to shoot anything in the woods. I had a sliver of hope when I thought that I saw a squirrel scurrying up a tree, but it wasn't actually there. I should have known, squirrels never appear in plain sight during the winter.

The odds are never in my favour.

Ice had patched up the forest floor overnight. And, when I wasn't paying attention, I slipped and fell on my ankle.

I almost missed school because the pain was too much for me to bear.

I observe my ankle from above the desk. It's swollen up to a much higher degree. It's twice the size as it was this morning. Gently, I run my fingers over the area, tracing the red splotches and pink inflamed skin.

_Twisted. _I think sadly.

I rest my head on the palm of my hand and stare in front of me. Biology is usually my thing, and our topic until winter break is different kinds of animals and their bodies.

I know the majority already, so I don't bother to pay attention.

I purse my lips in irritation, hunting is already difficult as it is, and now that I have a severely twisted ankle, I am in no position to wander off into the woods every day.

I don't think I'll ever catch a break.

* * *

Madge sits opposite me, she's lost a fair bit of weight this month. I know that the weekly shipment from the Capitol has been delayed, and now merchants are struggling to keep their businesses afloat.

The grocers are having a hard time keeping their shelves stocked, the butcher is running out of meat, the tailor has no more fabric for winter clothes and the bakery is running low on supplies.

I think they have it worse than me.

The mayor, according to Madge, has had to cut down on his supplies as well. She says that he's planning to issue a letter to the Capitol demanding that they ship over our supplies. I don't know how effective it'll be, but at least he's trying to do what he can.

My eyes drift around the cafeteria, everyone is minding their own business, but I find that most of them don't have a small plate of food in front of them like usual. Some of the merchant's faces are beginning to hollow out and the kids from the Seam don't look any better.

One of the most heart-breaking scenarios is watching the little kids slowly get thinner. So young, but burdened so much.

The second is seeing some of my classmates at the mercy of Cray at night.

I try not to pay attention to them, but sometimes I see them through the window when I go around to the back of the house. I notice that it's not only Seam girls that go there anymore.

Once in a while, I hear the screams of young virgins being at the mercy of the men. I know they don't want to do it, but they're desperate. I can't blame them for something that I would've done if I was desperate enough – but my father taught me well.

Most of them don't look at me in the eye anymore. I think it's pity because they've seen how the business is ran, and they know that I'm in the house somewhere, suffering every night.

Lately, I haven't been coming home much anymore.

"Are you okay, Katniss?" Madge asks.

I stare at her. "Why are you asking?"

"You were staring off into space."

"I do that a lot nowadays."

She nods, "I've noticed.

That's more than our usual conversation. I don't mind talking to Madge, she's not like those other girls who judge you when you first meet. I like that about her. She's quiet, but poised. Another thing that I admire is that she doesn't flaunt her wealth around like what most people would do. She stays modest and wears the type of clothing that the rest of us wear, and she only wears her dresses for special occasions like the Spring Festival.

It's one of the only celebrations we have in Twelve. Although we don't celebrate for summer, autumn or winter, spring holds a significant value to all of our hearts because it's the end of the harsh cold, which means that those who survived can move on and start anew – like when a flower first blooms.

"He's staring at you again." Madge breaks the silence as she nudges her head behind me.

My brows furrow, "Who?"

"Peeta."

My stomach flips when I hear his name. Slowly, I twist my body and meet his gaze. His cheeks redden and as he looks away. I can see him fiddle with his hands underneath the table.

I feel heat rush onto my cheeks, then I realize that I'm blushing.

I rest my hands on the table and place my head in between. I groan.

When I look up, I see Madge raising an eyebrow at me in suspicion. I give her a shake of my head and she shrugs, letting the silent communication drop.

Something pulls at me when I give into the urge to look back at him.

I notice that he has a red inflamed welt on his right cheek.

* * *

My stomach groans in pain. I haven't eaten today. I clutch it firmly in my hand while my other holds me up.

I claw at the bedpost. The pain is too much. Soon, tears are cascading down my cheeks and I find myself struggling for air. It only worsens the pain.

Despite locking the door, smoke from cigarettes still seep through the bottom of it. I end up inhaling second-hand smoke at night. It's something I've been accustomed too, but lately I've noticed that it's becoming harder to breathe.

The sounds never stop. Various voices merge together until the sun rises. Different voices scream every night – some in pleasure and some in desperation.

I can't block them out.

Sometimes, I think it's me screaming.

I clutch my father's hunting jacket to my chest and weep. I only ever cry at night.

A comforting feeling fills me as I slip the jacket on, it's like my father is with me again, singing softly in my ear and telling me that it's okay.

My stomach grumbles again and I begin to feel dizzy. I feel myself slipping slowly into unconsciousness, into an uneventful limbo.

I feel safe there.

Images begin to flash through my mind. It's always the same. The mine explosion, Cray moving in, the beginning to the whore house, the man who's a thief and a rapist.

My eyes snap open.

I know what I have to do.

* * *

The Merchant Quarter is quiet. I can see my breath in the cold air. The moon is high up, but it's obscured by clouds. It's going to rain soon.

I have to hurry. It's late, but the strong noise of rain can rouse the merchants, and the last thing I need is to get a whipping from the Peacekeepers. I don't know if Cray will allow it or not, but I suppose he has too, since favouritism will become an issue. I can't have special treatment. I don't want it.

I remember the first couple of weeks after Cray moved in, he snooped around the house to find anything of use to sell. Anything worthy. He found my father's hunting jacket, but I fought him tooth and nail to get it back. He sold some of my mother's dresses, but he left some for use of special events.

One of the things he took was the expensive frame that held our family portrait. It was copper, but it had pieces of gold lining around the edge. My father found it in the woods one day. When he took it, he left me the picture in my room, but it wasn't the same without the frame. It was like he ruined a piece of my family.

He ruined a lot of things.

Maybe I'm just being overdramatic, but everything that's linked to my family held a special place in my heart.

The grocery comes into view, the soft white paint is chipped off, and the windows are hazy with frost. I climb over the fence and land with a soft thud on the ground. Mr. Roswell tends to throw out expired items even if food is scarce. He's inconsiderate that way. Or maybe he just does it to provide food for the beggars. It's no secret as to what goes on at night.

I peer in the garbage bin. Empty.

My stomach sinks. Has the garbage been collected already?

With a sigh, I close the lid slowly and trudge away. A drop of water splats on my nose.

I recoil in horror. The sky has darkened to a fierce midnight black, and the clouds have now covered the entire sky. It's drizzling, but soon it might turn into a storm.

Electricity is usually cut at night, so the streets are pitch black. A shiver runs up my spine when I feel someone look at me.

I turn around. There's nothing there.

The downpour of rain begins. I race towards shelter, I don't know where I'm going, but anything is better than being outside in the rain in cold weather.

My teeth begin to chatter furiously. I can't get sick. I need to get somewhere warm.

I turn the corner and skid to a stop. There's a shabby cabin in the wedged in the middle of two smaller houses. A lone candle lights up the window.

A feeling to warmth rushes through me. I run to the house and get round to the backyard.

My hands trace the wall to find an entrance. The rain gets stronger and the wind begins to batter against my skin. A cough sounds from my throat.

"Please, let me find something," I whisper to myself.

The water weighs me down and I feel tired. I'm just so tired.

Finally, my hands feel a window. I touch the glass frame and wedge it open, slipping inside.

The stench of the place hits me first. It smells of rotten food, dust and alcohol.

The small light from the front of the house lets me see where I'm going. I'm careful to avoid the pieces of shattered glass.

I begin to fidget. Where am I?

The door to the front is slightly ajar, and I can see more pieces of smashed glass littering the wooden floor.

From what I can see, the house is reasonable; it's more like what a wealthier person would live in.

The walls are bare, there are no traces of someone living in this house except for the smell and the mess. There's hardly any furniture, only a table and a countertop are displayed in the kitchen.

Slowly, I exit the kitchen and enter the living room. A beautifully woven carpet is the centrepiece of the area. The style of it reminds me of the kind my mother used to make.

The smell is worse here.

I hear movement coming from behind me and my body goes ridged.

Something pulls my arm in and a strong hand locks it in a vice grip behind my back.

I shriek.

"For an old girl like you, you sure seem to have a high voice," a raspy voice says from behind me.

Then I feel a sharp piece of metal against my throat.

* * *

**Notice something? Different writing style! I don't know, I like it, it's easier to write in this style. This is actually how I wanted Katniss to sound like from the beginning, curt and to the point. Also, there's not a lot of dialogue, but that's just because this chapter was basically a summary of her life. After this chapter, this begin to pick up! Anyway, sorry that I didn't update sooner, I was busy reading. Now I'm happily announcing that I'm reading The Fault In Our Stars :D Please no spoilers! :D**

**Sorry there's not much Peeta in this chapter, but soon my darling readers. Soon. :D**

**Anyways, thanks for reading and for reviewing the previous chapters! **

**Like always, reviews are always welcome and appreciated :D Love you all! **


	9. Chapter 9

He won't kill me, it ain't happened yet. But, it's like when someone tells you that their dog doesn't bite – how do they know?

Hot breath crashes onto my neck. The stench of alcohol wafts from behind me, filling my senses with that horrible, vulgar and familiar smell.

"Get off me!"

I push my elbows into his ribs and he stumbles back. From the force of the push, the hand that was holding the knife tumbles to the ground, leaving behind a small scrape on my neck.

The shadow obscures his face, but I recognize his stance. His posture.

"Haymitch?"

A loud gurgle comes from his direction as he stumbles into view. Definitely him.

His eyes are bloodshot, an immense amount of stubble frames his worn out face and his hair has grease tampered all over it.

I wrinkle my nose.

"You better give me back my knife, sweetheart," he slurs.

My face crinkles in disgust. I know that he's unstable, he has been ever since his wife died during the mine collapse when she fell in, but I don't think I had any idea _how _unstable.

"Not after you just tried to kill me, Abernathy," I retort.

He snorts, amused.

He wasn't always like this, he used to be the mayor's best head advisor, but he abandoned everything after his wife died.

There's a place at the very end of the Town, beyond the Merchant Quarter, where all of the mayor's important assistants and advisors live. In most Districts, the mayor lives with them, usually in the biggest house in the area, but Mayor Undersee was insistent that he needed to be in the direct centre of the District, so he could look out over everyone and everything.

It's called the Advisor's Complex. Haymitch used to occupy the largest house. It's surrounded by large metal gates that need an entry code so you can enter, all in all, it's obvious that none of us are wanted there.

After his wife died, Haymitch moved out, there were a lot of rumours that suggested why he moved. I remember that the most absurd one was that he kept seeing the ghost of his wife around the house.

Everyone thinks he's mad.

But the thing is…we're all mad here.

"You broke the law, I can call the Peacekeepers up for you," Haymitch threatens.

"Oh really?" I question. "I think your forgetting the fact that the Head Peacekeeper has taken up residence in my house. Or are you too drunk to remember such simple gossip?"

He tilts his head and blinks at me.

"You've got spunk. But I don't listen to pretentious rumours that circulate around town. None of them are worth my time."

I huff. "None of us think you're worth anything."

He growls and stumbles over towards me. I stand firm in place.

"Give me back my knife."

"No!"

"Give it!"

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?"

"You don't," he smirks.

I narrow my eyes. Slowly, I eye his house with great caution. The painted walls are bare, but I can see the hint of hooks for frames that have been smashed in. The furniture has been upturned and broken into pieces while the carpet has stains of vomit and alcohol on them.

Haymitch has always been a wealthy man. And a smart one to boot. I don't get how he can't just hire someone to fix all this up.

An idea strikes me.

I look back into his eyes. He's glaring.

I arch an eyebrow. He seems to get more infuriated.

"I'll give you back your knife if you do something for me."

He snarls but takes a step back. His fists clench. His lips form a tight line.

"What is it?"

"You need help," I put a hand out to stop him from protesting, "whether you like it or not old man, you need it. I can help you."

He shifts on his feet.

I bite my lip.

"Give me a job."

Haymitch's eyes widen to the size of golf balls and I can see him suppressing a scream.

With a small, soft and dangerous voice, he replies. "What ever do you mean, sweetheart?"

My eye twitches.

"Look at this place. It's a mess. I need a job and you need help. Look at how the pieces fit?"

"No! I don't want your help!" he cries out.

"Refuse and I take the knife."

"I can just order another one."

I cluck my tongue. "I don't think you're sober enough to pick up a phone."

I can see the thoughts breaking down in his mind. The benefits that it'll have on him. How it might let him move on. Maybe, if I help him change his environment and make it better, he can move on.

But that's probably thinking too far ahead.

"Alright. You start on Saturday, sweetheart."

The corners of my lips turn up into a small smile and I hand him back his knife. He snatches it and turns away.

"Just one request?"

His body stiffens but he stops walking away.

"Don't call me sweetheart."

His voice gives off a hint of a smile when he replies, "No promises, sweetheart."

* * *

The sky is clear. The rain has finally stopped falling. The night sky twinkles with the stars scattered across the universe.

The path is slippery, and my ankle is still throbbing. I push the pain away and keep walking.

I can't hide my glee. I have a job! Haymitch might not be a stable man, but when he was working with Mayor Undersee, he was known to be fair.

And maybe, he still is.

The coal dust has been washed away by the water. The black water is deep and reaches my ankles.

I feel a small, fluffy white ball fall onto my nose. I look up.

The first drop of snow has finally fallen.

I watch the moon pass by overhead.

* * *

I pass the bakery whenever I walk to school in the mornings. Usually, I can hear the happy whistles of the baker from outside. And sometimes, if we have time, Prim begs me to stop by the window to marvel at the cakes.

I wish I could give her everything she ever wanted.

And maybe someday, I can.

But today is different. There are no joyful whistles of the friendly baker, or the smell of fresh bread wafting from the inside.

Instead, there's the smell of burnt pastries.

Prim huddles beside me as we hear the shrill voice of the baker's wife scolding someone inside.

I cringe as I hear the words that she's throwing at them.

"_You're worthless scum! Have I taught you nothing!"_

The reply is inaudible. But it must have been something bad because next I hear the familiar sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Prim whimpers beside me.

I place my hand over her hidden head.

"It's okay, Prim."

She shakes her head. "No, it's not. It reminds me of when mother hits you."

I stiffen. "You know about that?"

A blue eye peers up at me. "Of course I know. Sometimes I see it. Sometimes I'm in the room when it happens."

"I…I guess I just forget that you're there."

She once again buries her head on my shirt. "I'm so scared for you."

I pat her head and soothe her. "I'm okay Prim. Nothing has happened yet."

_Nothing that you need to know._

We cringe again when we hear the baker's wife scream and the sound of wood hitting flesh.

"Come on," I whisper, "let's go."

* * *

I notice that Peeta wasn't at school that day.

No one thought anything of it; everyone knows that sometimes he stays home because it's busy at the bakery.

But I think that I just found the real reason.

I can help the feeling in the pit of my stomach that something's wrong.

Yesterday was the last day of school before we broke out for the winter holidays. I don't mind. Sometimes, I think it's best that I go to school, because there I know that I'm not the only one suffering, that I'm not the only one who's afraid of their home.

But when I'm at home, I feel more alone than ever. I feel like the walls of my room keep closing in on me until I'm trapped in a wooden box with no way out.

It's like I'm screaming but nobody can hear me.

The sun has barely peaked through the sky, but I'm already on Haymitch's doorstep.

I knock. The door creaks open. I step in.

It's as vile as it was the last time I was here. The only difference is that the walls now have cracks in them, as if someone has used them as a punching bag.

The door shuts behind me.

"Didn't think you'd show, sweetheart."

"I keep my promises," I respond.

"Do what you want. Just stay the hell out of my way."

I nod. He leaves me to my own devices.

All throughout the day, I kept hearing the sounds of glass coming into contact with the ground and voices echoing through the walls.

And I realize, maybe Haymitch isn't crazy.

He's just lonely.

* * *

I turn the knob of the front door and step out. My feet come into contact with a thin sheet of snow.

A shiver runs up my spine. I tug my jacket tighter.

I shut the door behind and walk away.

"Katniss!"

I shut my eyes and turn around.

"I thought you said you wanted me to stay out of your way?"

Haymitch snorts. He sticks his hand out. Ten gold coins rest on them.

"I do. Just get me some nut and raisin bread from the bakery, I'm running out of food to go with my drink."

It's my turn to snort.

"Watch it, sweetheart," he scolds.

I roll my eyes. "Get inside Haymitch, the outside doesn't do you justice."

He splutters and hobbles back into his house.

I hold the ten coins to my chest and breathe. I don't know why it means so much to me, but Haymitch has just given me an excuse to see Peeta. I can see if he's alright.

The sky rumbles. A storm is coming.

I grip the coins tighter.

* * *

I usually use the backdoor whenever I trade with the baker. But today is different. Today, I'm a customer.

The bell rings loudly as I push the door open. The merchants inside all turn their heads to look at me, as if it's the first time they saw a Seam resident inside a shop.

I glare at them and wait in line.

There isn't a lot of people, but there's enough to keep the business going. Winter has always been a hard time for everyone. Money comes in slowly because the mines are usually considered a hazard, and the merchants don't buy anything because their shipments are always late.

The array of pastries make my mouth water. Haymitch gave me five coins before I left, he said he'd pay me that amount every day. Maybe I can get something for Prim. And I might be able to save up for some medicine for my ankle.

Soon, I'm at the front.

A blonde boy with dark blue eyes looks at me curiously. I squirm.

His lips turn up.

"You must be Katniss."

"I…uh…what?" I reply.

He laughs. He has the same laugh that Peeta has. I realize that this is his brother.

There are minor differences. Peeta's shorter, but bulkier. This boy's taller but more slender. Peeta's eyes are a clearer shade of blue, like the sky. This boy's is dark, like the ocean.

But they both twinkle just the same.

"I'm Whitley. Peeta's older brother. People call me Wheat." He sticks his hand out for me to shake.

I stare at it. He retracts his hand.

"So what would you like?" he asks.

"Um," I pat my pockets, making sure that the coins are still there, "One loaf of nut and raisin bread."

He smiles. "Okay, just wait. Peeta's making a new batch."

I blink. "I…sure."

He chuckles and leaves to go tend to the last of the customers before shuffling into the backroom.

I look around me. A polished oak counter is in front of me, and an array of breads and pastries line the walls in shelves. I notice that the shelf for nut and raisin bread is empty as well as another shelf for cheese buns.

Across the room, on the other side of the front door, is a living room with a small fireplace and a television in the corner. A beige coloured couch is in front of the hearth.

I've never been inside the actual bakery, only the back. But I can see that the bakery's significantly well off.

I remind myself that it doesn't mean that the residents get to eat their own merchandise.

I hear a hearty laugh from the behind the counter. I then see Peeta get shoved behind the counter with a wrapped loaf of bread.

A faint _"Don't be a coward!"_ echoes off the walls.

I stand up and dust myself off. I walk towards the counter with the coins in my hand.

"How much?" I ask.

Peeta keeps his head down. "Ten coins."

I nod and give him the money. He shoves the loaf towards me.

I notice that he hasn't lifted his head up yet.

"You know they say that if you keep your head down a lot then it stays that way," I tease.

Gently, Peeta lifts up his head and I see that an inflamed bruise covers his right eyes. The rest of his face is splotched with fading red spots.

My hands twitch.

"Are…are you okay?" I breathe.

He nods his head.

"Well…thanks for the bread."

He nods again.

I walk away. I stop in front of the door.

"How did your brother know my name?" I ask.

Peeta's lips part, but before he can answer, a huskier voice does it for him.

"_He keeps talking about you!"_

A red blush appears on his cheeks. I can see his jaws clench.

Through gritted teeth, he replies, "Shut up Wheat!"

I smile softly at the two, I can see how much they love each other. How much Peeta's older brother wants him to be happier.

Obviously Peeta takes the blows from their mother the most. I couldn't see a hint of an injury on Wheat's pale face.

"Sorry about that Katniss."

I shift. "It's okay. I don't mind."

He sighs, "Okay then."

"Okay," I reply.

I turn the knob and open the door. The bell rings again.

"You know Peeta. I think I can get you something for that bruise of yours."

I turn around and see his blue eyes swimming in curiosity. "You can?"

"I can."

"Where?"

I cross my arms, "You should know."

A smile begins to light up his face, "So you're taking me to the woods?"

I nod. "I'm taking you to the woods."

* * *

**THEY'RE GOING TO THE WOODSSSSSSSSS! No Cray, Mrs. Everdeen or Gale in this chapter. But hey we get to meet Wheat! :D I just wanted to focus on what part Haymitch plays to get these two together, even if he doesn't realize it XD Anyway, confusing things will be explained next chapter! **

**See you then! Love you all! Thank you for reading!**

**And like always, reviews are my best friend. :3 Not only that, but they motivate me to put up the next chapter faster XD**


	10. Chapter 10

Haymitch gave me an extra five coins when I returned with his bread.

He had said, "Maybe you aren't so useless after all."

I had punched him in the shoulder.

So, with ten coins bouncing in my pocket, I had decided to go and buy some stew from Greasy Sae. Without the meat that Gale and I usually bring in, all she has left to work with are a few leftover rotten vegetables from the grocery. And even they are scarce during the winter.

A bowl of stew from Sae is cheap, rounding at a mere two coins. But it usually depends on which meat it contains.

But I didn't go to the Hob to trade. I came there as a customer.

I bought a whole pot which cost me eight coins. Four bowls per broth. Two days for Prim and I if we ration properly.

I came home that night with my mother passed out on the couch and a pool of vomit beside it.

I knew that I couldn't leave the stew in the kitchen, because the most likely scenario would be that my mother would eat it up or Cray would sell it to the customers. And I couldn't let that happen.

I stocked the pot of broth inside my bedroom closet. There isn't much in there. A couple of shirts, pants and dresses. Worn, old and used. Just like my life.

I've come to accept that fact a long time ago.

Prim hasn't been in the house for a long time. I haven't let her go near it. I don't want her to see the state of it – the broken chairs and battered walls, the smell of sex and lust…the horrifying truth of our lives.

She wouldn't want me here.

But I need to be. I need to take care of the house, the last reminder of my childhood when my father was still around.

I need those last few memories of happiness.

I clutch onto them so closely that it _hurts._

It hurts when I realize that I'll never get those times back. That no one will ever make me feel happy and loved like he did.

I'll never be happy again.

* * *

The flickering light of the sun streams through the window. It stings my eyes.

I open them and curl up into the bed. It feels too big without Prim. I haven't gotten used to being without her just yet. I don't think I ever will.

The sheets are soaked with sweat again, after another night of pure, disastrous nightmares. This time, I saw my father being burned alive. He was reaching out towards me, crying with pain. I felt it, I felt the flames scorching my skin like they were doing to him. I felt the excruciating pain.

My father was screaming at me. He said that I failed. That I wasn't able to protect his family. The guilt washed over me like a tidal wave in full force. He was right. He _is _right.

But I musn't have failed fully? Prim is alive. She lived to see her twelfth birthday. I reached my sixteenth.

However, it isn't enough.

It's never enough.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. I make the bed, and go over to the closet.

I've never been one for fashion, but I'm seeing Peeta today, and for some unexplainable reason, I want to look decent.

Something flutters.

In the end, I choose a dark green shirt and black pants with my hunting jacket. I leave my hair in its signature braid.

I take the pot out of its spot and rest it beside my bed.

The door creaks when I open it. It makes me cringe.

I step outside and tiptoe into the kitchen. Soft breathing fills the air.

I notice that the vomit beside my mother has been cleaned. And that a clean blue blanket has now been draped over her withering body.

I sigh.

I grab a thermos from the cupboard and return to my room. I pour the soup into the thermos for Prim and take one or two sips. I return the pot into the closet.

The door creaks again. I step outside.

My mother is sitting upright on the couch. A snarl is on her face.

"Have you no morals?" she rasps. "You woke me up."

I shake my head, "I didn't mean too."

She crosses her arms. And huffs her breath. "You don't mean a lot of things."

I roll my eyes. "I need to go."

"Oh really? And where exactly are you going?"

My hand hovers over the doorknob. I stop. "I'm going to the woods."

"So you haven't gotten it into your thick head yet?"

My jaw clenches. I turn around.

"Get what?" I fling my arms out in an exaggerated gesture.

"That you aren't going to get anything! It's _useless_!" she shrieks.

My temper rises and I stomp towards her. The couch creaks as she stands up to face me.

"_So what? _So what if it's useless? At least I can survive without selling myself out!"

"Oh Katniss," she shakes her head, "you won't this winter. There is only one choice if you really want to survive."

Her eyes light up like a lamp, glittering with mischief. My fists clench.

"You want to sell me out."

The look on her face answers everything.

She doesn't know. I haven't told her that I work for Haymitch.

"You're one big whore aren't you? You're nothing but that. It's all gotten into your head, it's brainwashed you. Now, you're convinced that it's the answer to everything," she stares at me. I challenge her back. "Well let me tell you something, I have gone my whole life believing that I was never the better person. But between you and me? I believe I am. So here's some advice, they're not going to want you when you're a pathetic old woman, and when that happens, I'm not going to help you."

And with that, I step outside.

* * *

The air is cold. Wind batters against my skin as I walk to the Hawthorne's. My breath escapes me in frosty bites. I resist taking a sip of the warm broth.

I knock on the door as I peer through the window. It has a fresh layer of frost and ice on it, I can't see inside.

The door opens, slightly rigid. Gale stands before me.

I haven't seen him in a while. But he looks drained. His clothes frame his body, hanging off his shoulders. He's become skinnier, but his muscular frame has allowed him to still look healthy.

But I know different. I know he's starving himself to feed his family.

Dark circles frame his grey eyes. They're sad, filled with the emotion of despair.

He sucks in a breath, "Catnip."

His voice is raspy, like he's being choked.

Suddenly, I feel guilty for not bringing some soup for the Hawthorne's. They've been nothing but good to Prim. I should tell Gale about my job, I should be sharing the money with him.

But he has too much pride.

"Gale…" I start.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

"I…um…I brought something for Prim." I stutter.

He looks down at my hands and nods. He knows I brought food for her.

He turns away and calls for Prim. She runs up to me and envelops my body with hers.

"Katniss!" she cries.

I smile softly at her. "Hey Little Duck, I brought something for you."

"You did? What is it?"

I stick out my hand with the thermos and she eyes it.

"You got me water?" she inquires.

I shake my head. "No, I got you some stew from the Hob."

She takes it slowly from me, her eyes never leaving mine. I know she has questions.

Her fingers clasp around the thermos and she opens it.

"Katniss…" she starts, "how did you get this? Gale hasn't been able to get anything from the woods. He hasn't been able to trade. He's told me that he hasn't seen you there either. How…how?"

I crouch on the floor and place my hands on her shoulders. Her blue eyes rest on my grey.

"Haymitch. I work for Haymitch."

She tilts her head to the side in disbelief. "Mr. Abernathy?"

I nod. "Yes. Mr. Abernathy. I clean his house. He gives me five coins per day. He gave me ten yesterday."

The scared look in her eyes disappear. It's obvious that she was worried that someone paid for me at the brothel.

I pull her into my arms.

"It's fine Prim. I will never ever let them hurt me. Don't worry about me." I whisper into her hair.

She nods into my shoulder.

I let her go and stand back up. "Okay, be good okay? I'll visit you later if I can."

"Where are you going?"

I glance back behind me, at the trees bordering the District. "Just…somewhere."

Her eyebrows are raised up, but she shrugs and gives me another hug.

"Wherever you're going, be careful."

"I will."

She gives me a light peck on the cheek and shuffles away. Gale comes in the room again.

"Going so soon?" he asks.

I lean against the doorframe. It scrapes. "I have to be somewhere."

He mimics my position against the wall. "Like?"

"Somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somewhere."

He puts his hands up. "Okay, I respect your privacy."

"But you still want to know." I point out.

His face twists in amusement. "Of course."

I nod my head and turn around. The cold blisters through my skin.

"How'd you get it?"

I freeze. "I…Haymitch gave me a job."

I can practically see him rolling his eyes. "Abernathy? Really?"

"Yes!" I snap. "And he pays fairly."

"I believe you Catnip. But…just be careful around him. You don't know what he's capable of," he warns.

I scoff. "With all that's going on in my life right now, I think handling Haymitch would be cake-work."

_Cake. Peeta. _

I look up at the sky. It looks like it's an hour after dawn. The sky is streaked sunlight peering through rows upon rows of white clouds.

"I need to go Gale. I'm late."

He grabs my arm just before I race off. "Remember," he says, "you can tell me anything."

I place a hand over his own and pull him into a hug. "I know. I trust you with my life."

"Right back at'cha Catnip." He replies.

I walk away to the meadow.

* * *

Sheets of snow crackle underneath my boots as I walk up the small hill. Memories of the night Peeta and I had here flitter through my mind.

I see a blonde headed boy sitting on the ground facing the sunlight. His broad shadow casts over the meadow.

"I'm sorry I'm late." I apologize.

He turns around and smiles. He stands up and dusts himself off.

"It's okay," Peeta says. "I don't mind."

I nod. I gesture for him to follow me.

We trudge through the meadow until we reach the fence. Peeta eyes it wearily.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask.

He snaps out of his daze. He looks at me. "What? Yeah! Yeah I'm sure."

I blink. "Okay. Just do what I do."

I crouch on my knees and put my ear next to the fence to make sure it's not electrified. It's not.

I shimmy underneath the opening and crawl to the other side. The wind blows from the trees, pulling me into my domain.

"C'mon."

He swallows. "Are…are you sure I can fit?"

I snort. "If Gale can fit under there, I'm sure you can."

"Um…okay."

He kneels down and crawls on the ground. A barbed wire gets caught on his shirt but he manages to pull free.

When he stands up, he's beaming.

"I did it!"

I stifle a smile at his glee. "Yeah, you did. Come on, let's go." I wave a hand for him to follow me.

* * *

We leave the District behind us.

Today, we aren't prisoners of the Capitol. We are on unclaimed lands. The feeling has always been an adrenaline rush of emotions.

Peeta looks in awe around him – at the trees, the sky, the sound of the birds echoing through the woods. A smile graces his lips.

I've lead him to a familiar part of the forest, right by where Gale and I hunt for game. I'm used to navigating it during the winter.

Another twig snaps. I cringe once more.

Peeta is loud. His steps are heavy on the earth. Much unlike mine, graceful and silent from years of experience and practice.

But it's winter. And it doesn't matter that much.

It's mid-December. No animals come out during this time.

"Katniss?"

I stop.

"What?" I glance behind me.

"Can we stop here?" Peeta asks.

I look around me. I nod. "Okay."

We take a seat on a nearby log. He looks up at the sky.

"Does it always feel like this?" he asks.

I look at him. "Feel like what?"

He shuts his eyes and breathes. "Like…like you're free."

I fiddle my fingers. I look up at the sky. The wind is blowing softly.

"Yeah. Yeah I guess it does."

From the corner of my eye, I can see him nod his head. "I can see why you love it."

I stare at him. "It's not that hard to miss."

I stand up and dust the snow off my pants. "Come on then. I said I'd get you something for that bruise of yours."

He quickly places his hand over the bruise. Like he's trying to hide it. I resist the urge to take his hand and pull it away.

Instead, I settle for telling him. "Don't. Take your hand off. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

He takes his hand off and smiles sheepishly.

He follows me out of this region of the forest.

* * *

I point to a bush.

"That's it." I inform.

Peeta takes a couple of steps forward and looks at it. "What's it do?"

"I'm not sure what it's called. It only grows during the winter. But it helps with swelling."

I remember that whenever my father would come back from hunting during winter, he would always tell Prim and I to wrap up the leaves around the injured area and soak it in hot water. Being available during winter is fortunate, because most of my hunting accidents come from slipping on ice.

I kneel in front of him and pluck a couple of leaves. I hand it to him.

"Just wrap it around your cheek. Usually you soak it in hot water. But that'll be a bit hard for you. So just soak the leaves in hot water first before putting them on, okay?"

He nods his head. I turn away.

"I'm sure you're needed at the bakery." I say.

Peeta shakes his head. "No, it's my day off."

"Okay," I breathe.

Our conversation ends there.

* * *

The sun is high up in the sky. Snow is beginning to fall rapidly.

"Katniss? I think we should go." Peeta suggests.

I close my eyes and nod. The snow is falling faster now, it's getting harder to see.

"Keep close to me Peeta. _Do not _wander off on your own." I warn.

I squint my eyes. I can see he nods his head.

I take his hand in mine, and tug. I notice it's warm. A warm feeling spreads through my body. I try to ignore it.

I pull him through the woods carefully, manoeuvring around ice patches and fallen branches. I've let go of his hand by now, but I can still hear his loud footsteps.

"Are we almost there?" he asks.

I don't have time to respond before I find myself tumbling down a cliff.

* * *

**So thereee is where this chapter ends :D Sorry I haven't updated for a long time, school just started and I was busy sorting out through my textbooks and new classes and the such. Thank you for being so patient :D I'll try to update as much as I can. **

**First week of high school was good! Went well. Now, I celebrated by writing and posting up a new chapter! (: **

**Thank you all so much for the reviews that you've given me. And thank you for reading. It means so much.**

**And reviews: motivate to update! :D I love you all! :3 **


	11. Author's Note

Hey guys! I know it's literally been a month since I last updated.

Because it's been so long, I think you guys deserve an explanation as to why it has been so long.

Well, the thing is that I wrote up the chapter like two weeks ago, half of it, at least. It stood at 2,000 words and I still had about 3,000 more to go. But my computer crashed on me halfway through writing it, and because I hadn't saved it yet, I lost everything. Now, I am utterly busy, with my IGCSE courses, my CAS (Community, Action, Service: Hours) and filling out and sorting my travel documents/visa formalities because I'm going on a team trip overseas in early November. With it, I've got practices after-school. So I was already struggling to get it out, and when my computer crashed, I kind of got frustrated, I guess? But I sucked it up and wrote something a week later, and currently, it's at 1,000 words. Hopefully I can get something out by the end of the week.

Sorry if you thought this was a new chapter! I hope you guys can understand. I THINK I'll get it out on Friday. Thank you for your co-operation and immense patience.

Au revoir ;)


	12. Chapter 11

**Sorry it took so long to put this up. I was halfway through writing this chapter when my computer crashed. Then I couldn't recover the file -.-' Not only that but IGCSE has been taking over my life. **

**Anyway it's here and without further ado!**

* * *

I remember the first time by father took me to the woods. I was eight. And I remember feeling so small amongst the tall trees. I felt like a pixie among trolls, a lone flower against tall weeds.

I had wanted to climb up a tree so badly.

I remember seeing a flock of birds flying overhead, and I had wanted to join them. To be a girl of the sky.

But I didn't listen to my father's cries for me to stop climbing, and I ended up slipping on a weak branch. The wind flew me to the ground that day.

I twisted my ankle and I got a bruised tailbone. My mother was furious.

But the pain that I experiences on that day, doesn't even compare to this.

Everything is so white. A white blanket of snow covering up something ugly and making it beautiful. A magical blanket.

But it still doesn't hide the growing red pool of blood beside my head.

I hear my name somewhere in the distance, being carried away by the wind.

Spots cloud my vision – a kaleidoscope of bright colours.

Then everything goes black.

* * *

"_Katniss!"_

_I can't see. The brightness of the light is blinding me, burning holes through my skin. _

_But I know that voice. I've heard it sing so many times before. The way his rough voice miraculously turned soft when he sang. _

"_Dad?"_

_And then suddenly, everything becomes clear. The white light has merged into a sea of gold and silver. A field of dandelions lie before me, encrusted in jewels. _

_But what really gets my attention is the man at the end of it. Unevenly cut, shaggy dark hair, with olive skin and grey eyes much like my own. _

"_Dad!"_

_He opens his arms and welcomes me in. A warming feeling of security spreads through. Something that I've missed and have been lacking for years._

_He places his hand on my hair and pulls back. A smile is on his face._

"_You've grown so much. You look like your mother," he beams. _

_I don't care that he mentioned the woman that I loathe. I just care that he's here with me, now._

"_I've missed you so much," I whisper. _

_He pulls me back into a tight hug again. _

"_I know Kat. I've missed you too."_

_I tighten my grip, afraid that he's going to disappear again. _

"_Why did you have to leave dad? I need you so much. Everything is falling apart."_

_He pulls away and looks at me with such fondness for his family that it's almost like he never left. He takes my hand and pulls me away. And that's when I realize something. _

"_Where are we?"_

_He stops, and looks at me with a soft expression. "Katniss…we're home. We're in District Twelve."_

_I wrinkle my nose and take a look around me. Houses without the familiar etching of coal dust, pathways without any cracks and the woods without a fence. The sun is shining bright, the meadow has grown, it isn't cold. _

"_But-" I start. _

_A hand is pulled up in my face. I snort. _

"_Katniss, this is a world with a Capitol that isn't corrupt."_

_I look around one more time. The birds are singing. I think I can hear a soft lullaby being sung from a distance. _

"_I don't want to go back, not to her," I turn and face him, "she's changed. The only thing left for me back there is Prim. But she doesn't need me, she has Rory, she has Gale and Hazelle and everything else."_

_A blank expression graces my father's face. He holds out his arm to me. _

"_Come with me."_

* * *

_It's warm. The feeling of heat rushes through me. The smell is familiar. _

_I look up. _

_My breath hitches in my throat. "The bakery…"_

"_You're not alone, Katniss."_

_There's a sudden urge inside me to laugh. _

"_Why did you take me here?"_

_He sighs and sits down on the pavement. I follow._

"_You're not alone Katniss. You never were. There's someone who lives in there that cares so much for you."_

_I glance back at the bakery. It's faded yellow walls are now snow white, and the shutters are painted a soft blue, highlighting the intricately decorated cakes inside. _

"_And I think you know who it is?" _

_I look back at my father. His eyes are soft, but his face is in a knowing look._

"_Yeah," I breathe, "I think I do."_

_He chuckles and turns his body to face mine. "So why won't you let him in?"_

_I look down at the pavement. My fingers begin to play with the hem of my shirt. _

"_Don't close your heart off, Katniss."_

_My father's words play like a ringtone in my ear. Over and over and over again like a tape recorder. _

"_But look at what it did to mom. It crushed her. It ruined her," I say. _

_My father sighs. I know that sigh. He used to use it when he was frustrated with Prim and I. _

"_I loved you mother. I still do and always will. And the time we had together, I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world._

"_Katniss, please don't close this," he points to my heart, "off. It's one of the biggest mistakes you'll ever make."_

_I notice that the world has gone silent. _

"_But she seems so lost," I say. _

_He nods curtly and puts an arm around me. "Yes, she does. But sometimes you need to be lost to find the person to point you to the right direction."_

"_To find my way home?"_

"_To find your way home."_

* * *

"Katniss!"

"Oh god. Katniss!"

"Wake up, _please…_"

The pounding in my head returns, a constant banging on the walls of my skull like the sound of drums. I want to open my eyes, but they feel so heavy, like a weight has been placed on them.

I want to open my eyes. Why can't I open my eyes?

"I'm so sorry, Katniss."

I know that voice. A choked up, raspy version of it.

Another choke and I feel a drop of water land on my face.

Warmth soon spreads through my body again, a tingly sensation is on my face, with the smell of cinnamon and icing.

Suddenly, I have the energy to make my lips part and my eyes open.

"Peeta…"

There's a blurring image of gold and white. I blink once. Twice. Thrice.

I see Peeta, with red rimmed blue eyes and ice encrusted blonde hair. His lips are as blue as his eyes. He's so pale in the snow and in this light, it almost appears as though he's glowing.

"Katniss," he breathes, "I am so sorry!"

He puts a hand over his mouth and chokes with new tears running down his face. My chest it tightening up, and I can't feel my toes.

"Peeta…how'd….how'd you get here?"

He wipes a tear away with the sleeve of his coat.

"I…I couldn't leave you here. So…so I climbed down," he explains.

I stare at him. The snow is battering against my skin. And I still can't feel my toes.

"What happened? Where are we? Peeta, where are we?"

He leans down, and for a moment, I can feel his breath on me. But all he does is place his only coat around me. It's warm.

"I think you fell. But we're still down here, on a ledge at the bottom of the cliff. I'll get us out of here, but only after the blizzard blows over. It's too dangerous to try and climb now."

"Peeta," I wince, "everything hurts."

He makes a pained expression on his face, kind of like how my father used to make when he saw the patients that my mother used to treat.

"I'm so sorry Katniss."

"What for?"

He inhales through clenched teeth, "Because if I hadn't wanted to go into the woods in the first place, then you wouldn't have offered."

"Ever think that I wanted to take you?" I say.

The pounding of my head increases in every passing minute.

He looks at me with an unreadable emotion on his face. His eyes search mine, and I find myself locked into a gaze with him.

I shake my head. He turns away from me.

"I don't know how long the blizzard is going to last. We can't go anywhere," he says.

I sigh slowly, "I know."

After I say that, he tightens the coat around my body and engulfs me in his arms.

I wonder why I feel safe there.

* * *

A croaked voice awakens me from my sleep.

"Katniss, the blizzard's over. Come on, we need to get out of here."

I groan softly. My banging in the back of my head is accompanied with ringing.

I clamp my hands over my head and tug. I want it to stop! Why doesn't the ringing stop!

A whimper comes from my lips, and there's a burning sensation inside my mouth. I must've been gnawing my cheek again.

"Katniss," Peeta says, "Katniss come on, stay awake, do not close your eyes!"

I shake my head. I want it to go away. Please let the ringing go away.

I feel the cold disappear from underneath my body, and soon I'm on Peeta's back.

"Hold on," he whispers.

I take away my hands from my head reluctantly and wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

A slow grunt sounds from his throat as he carries both of us up again. When I open my eyes for a brief second, I can see that he's holding on to overgrown tree roots and pockets of rocks. There's callouses forming on his hands and small drops of blood on the snow.

Beneath me, I can see the puddle of blood standing out from the snow white blanket of the ledge below.

The cliff isn't vertical, but more like a uniform line of rocks.

My neck is stiff from the dried blood, and the ringing and the banging still won't stop.

A constant beat of four drums.

When we reach the top, Peeta is heaving and he feels so cold.

He places me on the ground for a brief moment, and picks me up once again the way that my father always used to pick up my mother.

"I'm taking you home."

I look at him, and see that his lips are set into full determination. His face is so white that it nearly matches the snow, and his lips are so blue like the afternoon sky in the summer. Small chips of ice have formed on the strands of his golden hair, and his eyelashes have completely frozen.

From the way that he is carrying me, I can feel that the shirt he was wearing underneath the coat that he gave me is relatively thin, most likely a hand-me down from one of his brothers.

I'm not big, in fact, I consider myself relatively small, especially since its winter when food is scarce. But I can imagine that it's getting considerably agonizing to carry me without a coat _and _trudge through snow.

And I can't let him see what I have to go through at home.

The sun is setting, but the sky is still covered in clouds. The district is grey today.

With my shaking hand, I grab his shirt. He stops suddenly and looks down at me.

"No," I breathe, "take me to Haymitch."

I can see the puzzled look on his face, but he agrees and changes direction without further complaint.

Truth is, I haven't worked for Haymitch for a very long time, but he's given me a home away from home, which says something since I feel like I don't have a home anymore. He's given me a job, which is a priceless opportunity. I've known him for a long time, and I'm talked to him occasionally. But apart from the fact that he was my father's friend, there was never really anything to talk about.

Why he agreed to hire me _almost _without a fight, is beyond me.

Just another star that I can't fathom into a constellation.

* * *

Haymitch's house is near, about half a mile west of the fence.

His house is old and unkempt. He's known as the town drunk. But Peeta does not bother with knocking before barging inside.

On the way over, I battled keeping my eyes open. And it's getting harder with each passing moment.

I can hear Haymitch spluttering drunken words at Peeta.

"_Who __**are **__**you**__?_"

"_Why does Katherine look like that?"_

"_Katherine, Katniss, same thing."_

"_I am not drunk!"_

It's warm in his house. There must be a fire that's been set alight somewhere.

I grab onto Peeta's shirt once again.

"Prim," I whisper, "get Prim."

He sets me down on a soft couch and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. I can feel his breath against my skin.

"Where is she?"

"The Hawthornes."

"Okay Loverboy, go get her sister will you? Injured people and me do not go well," Haymitch chimes, "oh, and take this will you? You'll freeze to death."

There's only a faint sound of a door closing before the darkness claims me again.

* * *

When I wake, a sigh of relief fills my ears.

"Katniss! Thank god you're okay!"

That voice can only belong to one person – Prim.

"Prim," I breathe, "Prim!"

I begin to sit up, but a sharp shooting pain attacks me.

"Take it easy will you?" she whispers.

I settle back down. I grin softly back at her.

"How bad is it, little duck?"

She purses her lips. "Want me to lie or tell the truth?"

"No sugarcoating please."

She bends down and retrieves a cloth. She soaks it in a basin filled with hot water that I had not noticed before.

"Few bumps and bruises, you got lucky. You would have frozen to death if Peeta had not given you his coat," she begins to wipe my forehead with the hot cloth, "your skull wasn't cracked. But your cuts were deep. I needed to stich you up."

"But, wouldn't I have bled to death if something wasn't put on it immediately?"

She nods, "Yes, you would have. Peeta tore off a part of his shirt and wrapped it around your head. He had to keep changing the bandages while you were down there though, your head wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Katniss, you owe your life to him."

A pang of guilt hits me. I owe him my life…again.

"You should have seen him when he got to Rory's. He was frantic. He looked like he was about to pass out from the cold."

I shuffle slightly on the bed. "Where is he now?"

Prim nudges her head slightly, "Haymitch put you in the guest room. Said he'd keep you here until you were recovered, he's gone out to the apothecary to get me some more herbs for you.

"Peeta, however, he wouldn't leave until you woke up, so he's outside in the living room. I had to bandage his hands up after I had you sorted, though."

I look at the door. "Can I see him?"

She nods her head. "Yeah, I'll go get him."

She stands and opens the door, but before she closes it, she looks back at me with a knowing look in her blue eyes.

"Oh, and Katniss, don't be so blind."

I'm left baffled when she leaves.

A couple minutes later, Peeta walks through the door.

He looks better, his face isn't as pale, and his eyes don't look so sad anymore.

"Peeta…" I start.

"Katniss…"

We sigh.

"You first," he says.

I look at him.

"I don't really know how to start. I'm not very good with saying something. But…thank you."

Peeta fiddles with his fingers and starts alternating balance on his feet.

"Katniss…I…it was all I could do. It really was nothing."

Suddenly, anger begins to boil inside of me.

"Nothing?" I scream, "Nothing?! You saved my life! Again! And I hate you so much for it! Why Peeta, why must you be so good? What have I ever done to you to make you do all this for me? I just don't understand…"

Pain seems to flicker off his eyes, and suddenly I'm afraid that I've hurt him.

"I…I don't actually hate you. I could never hate you. I guess, I just hate myself because whatever I do, I can never be as good as a person as you."

Peeta's eyes begin to soften, and he takes the seat by my bed.

"Katniss, we're not perfect. I'm not perfect, not by a mile. I've done things in life that have been in my favour, that are selfish. But that's who we are.

"We don't have to have a great upbringing, or great financial wealth to be happy and to be a good person. People who have one don't usually have the other.

But our faults make us who we are. And you are fine just the way you are. We need help something and that's okay, because sometimes we need a hand to hold to get over the bridge."

I blink at him. "But you risked your life for me. What have I ever done to deserve that?"

"Katniss, I'd risk so much more than that."

He brushes strands of hair away from my face once again. And along with his touch, comes a fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Just as about he's taking his hand away, I grab it.

I hold his hand against my cheek for the longest time before I whisper, "Stay with me?"

His reply is so quiet that I can barely hear the "Always."

* * *

**Very aware it's been over a month. Words cannot express how sorry I am. But IGCSE is wow. Can't imagine the IB. But if things don't connect, sorry, it's been so long that I've forgotten what I previously wrote. I'm rereading everything after this is posted. **

**But it's fall break. And I've finally got time. Who knows? Maybe a few chapters will come? :D**

**Anyway, thank you for your patience, my sincerest apologies. I love you all! **

_**Reviews are my best friend. - Deception's Call.**_


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